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MAINE MY STATE 




The Rugged Cliffs of Maine 

(See Page 23) 



MAINE MY STATE 



BY 



The Maine Writers 
Research Club 




With Contributions By 

Colonel Theodore Roosevelt and 

Famous Maine Writers 



'.^^6 



Copyright, 1919 
Maine Writers Research Club 



All Rights Reserved 



on 24 ic)i2 



The Journal Ppintshop 
Lewipton, Maine 



•CI.A535446 



FOREWORD 




HIS BOOK is intended primarily as a reader 
for the public schools of Maine and as such 
maintains a true historical perspective, to- 
gether with an effort to present the per- 
sonal and picturesque side of Maine history 
in a narrative form. 
Much of the material is to be found only in scat- 
tered memoirs, little-known historical documents, 
and in volumes that may be written in quaint ver- 
biage, difficult to comprehend and unsuited to the 
schools. It has been the privilege of the writers of 
this book to make these offerings as lucid and as 
direct as possible. 

It is hoped that this book will teach history as 
well as reading; and what is of especial interest in 
this centenary year of the statehood of Maine, a love 
of the history of Maine. This, of itself, would be 
worth far more to the originators of this volume, the 
Maine Writers Eesearch Club, composed of a group 
of Maine women, concerned in Maine historical mat- 
ters, than any other possible outcome of its pub- 
lication. 

Here along our coast of Maine were the begin- 
nings of our Nation. Here were some of the first 
settlements of the Western Hemisphere. Here 
went the first of the brave voyageurs along the 
deeply indented coast line from Cape Cod to New- 
foundland. Here the early cartographers came to 
make their maps. It is a rich field for study. The 
brave souls who lived and died here in the age long 



8 MAINE, MY STATE 

gone, should be known by every youth who attends 
our pubhc schools, and by every adult should be rev- 
erenced and acknowledged. 

It is with these things in mind that this volume 
is issued — the sole object has been to make a book 
that should be of value to the boys and girls of Maine 
and thereby a book of value to future generations. 



ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 

In the preparation of ''Maine, My State," the Maine 
Writers Research Club has received assistance from so 
many people that it is impossible to name them all. The 
committee cannot refrain from expressing in a more per- 
sonal way its appreciation of those who have been untiring 
in their helpfulness. 

Without the cooperation of Dr. A. O. Thomas, State 
Superintendent of Schools, this book probably never would 
have been. He believed in the idea and has given every 
stage in its realization his personal supervision and hearty 
encouragement. 

To Superintendent Charles W. Bickford of the Lewiston 
schools the book committee is deeply indebted for assistance 
in the final editing of the manuscript to which he gave of his 
time, unstintingly. From H. H. Randall, Superintendent 
of the Auburn Schools, and John L. Hooper, Principal of the 
Auburn Grade Schools, who read the manuscript, the club 
received many helpful suggestions. 

Several Maine writers of acknowledged fame have con- 
tributed stories to this book, and to them a large measure of 
the success which the book may win, will be due. 

Col. Theodore Roosevelt responded to the request for a 
contribution to this book, by sending the story, and the 
manuscript, written in pencil by his ow^n hand, is a priceless 
treasure. 

John Francis Sprague, editor of S Prague's Journal, not 
only has contributed to the book, but has given the com- 
mittee encouragement and help in countless ways. 

The YoittJi's Companion has been most generous in per- 
mitting the reprinting of the stories, "When John Alden 
Went to Jail," by John Clair Minot, and ''W^hen Hannibal 
HamUn Got the Jonah," by Dr. C. A. Stephens. 

The story of New Sweden is told by William Widgery 
Thomas, who founded this unique colony in Aroostook 
County. Col. Fred. N. Dow of Portland has contributed a 
charming and vivid chapter on his father, Neal Dow, The 
Father of Prohibition. 



10 Maine, my stATii 

Dr. Stephens' story of Hannibal Hamlin is deliciously 
humorous. No one can tell an Indian story more graphically 
than Hugh Pendexter in his "Some Maple Sugar." John 
Clair Minot adds to the Colonial Period a forgotten chapter 
in the life of John Alden. 

Holman Day contributes a delightful interview with 
Elijah Kellogg, the preacher-author, whom he visited at his 
Harpsv.'ell home shortly before his death. John Kendrick 
Bangs' poem on "The Pines" strikes a responsive note in the 
hearts of all sons and daughters of Maine. 

Lester M. Hart's poem, "Maine," is a little gem. "The 
Returned Maine Battle Flags," by Moses Owen, should be 
known by heart by every Maine boy and girl. 

To Dr, George A. Wheeler of Castine, who read the 
manuscript of this book, with the critical eye of the histo- 
rian, the committee acknowledges its deep obligation. 

Infinite pains have been taken to make this school reader 
accurate historically, as well as attractive in its semi-story 
form. It has been the careful work of two years, and a 
'labor of love, with no thought of gain. 

To all who have contributed in any way to "Maine, My 
State," the Club acknowledges its deep gratitude. 

(Signed) Anna Ladd Di'ngley, Chairman, 
Jessica J. Haskell, 
Louise Wheeler Bartlett, 
Theda Cary Dingley, 
Emmie Bailey Whitney. 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

My Debt to Maine . . . Col. Theodore Roosevelt ly 

EXPLORATION PERIOD 

The Birth of Maine . . Mary Dunbar Devereux 23 

The Lost City of Norumbega Emmie Bailey Whitney 28 

Maine's First Christmas 

Observance .... Emmie Bailey Whitney 38 

Along the Maine Coast with 

Cham PLAIN Emmie Bailey Whitney 47 

The Voyage of the Archangel Charlotte M. H. Beatk 54 

The Boy and the Boat . . Mary Dunbar Devereux 63 

The Pilgrim Fathers of the 

Kennebec Louise H. Coburn 72 

The Treasure Ship . . . Anna Ladd Dingley 81 

When Jean Vincent Fol- 
lowed the Trail . . . Louise Wheeler Bartlett 90 

Four Forts of Pemaquid. Adapted from Cartland's 

Pemaquid 105 

The Pine (poem) . . . John Kendrick Bangs 116 

THE COLONIAL PERIOD-FRENCH AND INDIAN 

WAR 

With Pepperrell at Louis- 
burg Beulah Sylvester Oxton 117 

Samuel Waldo, Soldier and 

Colonizer Jessica J. Haskell 128 

When John Alden Went to 

Jail John Clair Minot 132 

The Story of Lovewell''s 

Fight Eva E. Shorey 137 

Sebastian Rale .... Henrietta T osier Tot man 145 

Some Maple Sugar . . . Hugh Pendexter 15.3 

Maine (poem) .... Lester Melcher Hart 158 

11 



12 MAINE, MY STATE 

REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD 

The Soldier Boy of the Rev- 
olution Who Whipped the 

Future King of England Fanny E. Lord 159 

''The Lexington of the Seas'"' John Francis Sprague 161 

General Henry Knox . . Mrs. John O. IVidber 168 

From the Lips of Zilpah . Louise Wheeler Bartlett 177 

Arnold's Trail .... Mrs. E. C. Carl! 190 
When the King of France 

Visited Sanford . . . Emmie Bailey Whitney 197 
Dr. Benjamin Vaughan, the 

Friend of Statesmen . . Theda Cary Dinghy 20.4 
When Lafayette Came to 

Portland Ella Matthczvs Bangs 214 

Rosalind of Squam Island Maude Clark Gay 221 

Our Banner (poem) . . LI. W. Shaylor 229 

WAR OF 1812— MAINE BECOMES A STATE 

"The Sea-Fight Far Away" Charlotte M. H. Beath 230 
Where Maine Was Made a 

State Clara N'ezchall Fogg 240 

Maine's First Governor . lone Fales Winans 243 

The State Seal "Dirigo" . Contributed 253 
The Bloodless Aroostook 

War Stella King White 254 

CIVIL WAR PERIOD 

The Returned Maine Battle 

Flags (poem) .... Moses Ozven 265 

His First Thrill of Patriot- 
ism Louise Wheeler Bartlett 266 

The Hero of Little Round 

Top Theda Cary Dingley 2/2 

The Man with the Empty 

Sleeve Mabel S. Merrill 280 

When Hannibal Hamlin 

Got the "Jonah" . . . C. A. Stephens 288 

A Famous Maine Cradle . Rose D. Nealley 298 



,/ 



CONTENTS 13 

MODERN AND GENERAL 

The Story of New Sweden WiUiamWidgcryTliomas 304 
Little Christiana's Journey 

Through the Maine Woods 

jj^ jgj-^ Anna Barnes 31" 

A Quaint Letter of Long Ago Theda Gary Dingley 3^3 

Neal Dow . • • F^^d. N. Dow 328 

Maine (poem) . ... Elizabeth Powers Merrill 336 

Elijah Kellogg .... Holman Day 337 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

Theodore Roosevelt on His First Maine Vacation . i8 
One of Champlain's Maps, Showing De Monts' Col- 
ony on St. Croix Island 41 

De Monts' Colony Memorial on St. Croix .... 46 

Samuel Champlain 47 

Champlain's Sketch of St. Croix Settlement ... 49 

The Archangel 54 

Cross on Allen's Island . 61 

The Virginia on the Stocks at Popham Colony . . 65 

Popham Fort and Trading Post 69 

Sir William Phips 84 

The King's Invitation to Funeral of Sir William Phips 89 

Jean Vincent (The Baron Castine) in Youth . . . 91 

Old Fort Frederic, Pemaquid 107 

Fort at Pemaquid as it Looks Today . . . . 107 
Horn Presented by the Indians to the Commander at 

Fort Frederic 114 

Sir William Pepperrell 117 

Pepperrell Mansion, Kittery 120 

Bronze Tablet Erected in Memory of Lovewell's 

Fight 144 

Father Rale's Chapel ' . . 147 

Father Rale's Strong Box 149 

Bell from the Indian Chapel 149 

Burnham Tavern, Machias 164 

"Montpelier," General Knox's Home in Thomaston . 169 

General Henry Knox 175 

General Peleg Wadsworth 177 

The Flight of Nitanis 194 

The Second Company, Governor's Foot Guard, of 

New Haven, Conn 196 

The Lafayette Tavern, Sanford 203 

The Vaughan Mansion, Hallowell 209 

Vaughan Brook 209 

Home of General Wingate, where Lafayette was 

Entertained 215 

14 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 15 

Rosalind of Squam Island 221 

The Marie Antoinette House 228 

Graves of the Captains of the Enterprise and Boxer . 237 

Jameson Tavern, Freeport 241 

Governor William King 244 

The Stone House 251 

The State Seal 252 

Rufus Mclntire, Land Agent 257 

Major Hastings Strickland 259 

William Conway, from a Sketch from Life hy Wil- 
liam Wand 266 

"When the Time Came He, Too, Was Ready" . . . 271 

General Joshua L. Chamberlain 273 

Home of General Chamberlain in Brunswick . . . 277 
Monument Erected by General Howard on Big Hill 

in Leeds 279 

General O. O. Howard 284 

Hannibal Hamlin Praised the Fried Pies . . . 294 

The Cradle of the Washburns 299 

The Norlands 301 

Hon. W. W. Thomas 305 

New Sweden 314 

Home of Governor Robert Dunlap in Brunswick . 325 

General Neal Dow 329 

HomiC of General Neal Dow . ' 334 

Elijah Kellogg Returning Home Accompanied by 

General Joshua L. Chamberlain 339 



MAINE, MY STATE 



MY DEBT TO MAINE 

By Col. Theodore Roosevelt. 

I OWE a personal debt to Maine because of my 
association with certain staunch friends in 
Aroostook County; an association that helped 
and benefited me thruout my life in more ways 
than one. 

It is over forty years ago that I first went to 
Island Falls and stayed with the Sewall family. I 
repeated the visit three or four times. I made a 
couple of hunting trips in the fall, with Bill Sewall 
and Wilmot Dow; and one winter I spent three or 
four weeks on snowshoes with them, visiting a 
couple of lumber-camps. I was not a boy of any 
natural prowess and for that very reason the vigor- 
ous out-door life was just what I needed. 

It was a matter of pride with me to keep up with 
my stalwart associates, and to shift for myself, and 
to treat with indifference whatever hardship or 
fatigue came our way. In their company I would 
Lave been ashamed to complain! And I thoroughly 
enjoyed it. I was rather tired by some of the all- 
day tramps, especially in the deep snow, when my 
webbed racquets gave me ^Vsnowshoe feet'^ or when 
we waded up the Munsungin in shallow water, drag- 
ging a dugout, until my ankles became raw from 

17 




Theodore Roosevelt on His First Maine Vacation. 

From an Old Tintype Showingr His Companions, 
Bill Sewall and Dow on his left. 



MY DEBT TO MAINE 19 

slipping on the smooth underwater stones; and I still 
remember with qualified joy the ascent and espec- 
ially the descent of Katahdin in moccasins, worn 
because, to the deep disapproval of my companions, 
I had lost one of my heavy shoes in crossing a river 
at a riffle. 

I also remember such delicious nights, under a 
lean-to, by stream or lake, in the clear fall weather, 
or in winter on balsam boughs in front of a blazing 
stump, when we had beaten down and shovelled 
away the deep snow, and kept our foot-gear away 
from the fire, so that it should not thaw and 
freeze; — and the meals of venison, trout or part- 
ridge; and one meal consisting of muskrat and a 
fish-duck, which, being exceedingly hungry, we 
heartily appreciated. 

But the bodily benefit was not the largest part of 
the good done me. I was accepted as part of the 
household; and the family and friends represented 
in their lives the kind of Americanism — self-respect- 
ing, duty-performing, life-enjoying — which is the 
most valuable possession that any generation can 
hand on to the next. It was as native to our soil as 
^'William Henry's Letters to his Grandmother ' ' — I 
hope there are still readers of that delightful vol- 
ume of my youth, even although it was published 
fifty years ago. 

Mrs. Sewall, the mother, was a dear old lady; 
and Miss Sewall, the sister, was a most capable man- 
ager of the house. Bill Sewall at that time had two 
brothers. Sam was a deacon. Dave was NOT a 
deacon. It was from Dave that I heard an expres- 
sion which ever after remained in my mind. He 
was speaking of a local personage of shifty charac- 



20 MAINE. MY sTvrr; 

ter who was very adroit in using fair-soundmg 
words wliicli completely nullified the meaning of 
other fair-sounding words which preceded them. 
^'•His words weasel the meaning of the words in 
front of them," said Dave, ''just like a weasel when 
he sucks the meat out of an egg and leaves nothing 
but the shell;" and I always remembered ''weasel 
words" as applicable to certain forms of oratory, 
especiall}; political oratory, which I do not admire. 

Once, while driving in a wagon with Dave, up an 
exceedingly wet and rocky backwoods road, with 
the water pouring down the middle, I asked him 
how in Aroostook County they were able to tell its 
roads from its rivers. "No beaver dams in the 
roads," instantly responded Dave. 

At one of the logging-camps I became good 
friends with a quiet, resolute-looking man, named 
Brown, one of the choppers; and afterwards I 
stopped at his house and was as much struck with 
his good and pretty wife as I had been with him. 
He had served in the Civil War and had been 
wounded. His creed was that peace was a great 
blessing, but that even so great a blessing could be 
purchased at too dear a price. I did not see him 
again until thirty-seven years later when he came to 
a meeting at which I spoke in Portland. He had 
shaved off his beard and was an old man and I did 
not at first recognize him; but after the first sen- 
tence, I knew him and very glad indeed I was to see 
him once more. 

In the eighties I started a little cattle-ranch on 
the Little Missouri, in the then territory of Dakota, 
and I got Bill Sewall and Wilmot Dow to join me. 
By that time they had both married and they 



MY DEBT TO MAINE 21 

brought out Mrs. Sewall and Mrs. Dow. There was 
already a little girl in the Sewall family, and two 
babies, a small Sewall boy and a small Dow boy, 
were born on the ranch. Thanks to Mrs. Sewall and 
Mrs. Dow, we were most comfortable. The ranch- 
house and all the out-buildings at the home-ranch — 
the Elkhorn — were made of cotton-wood logs and 
were put up by Bill and Wilmot who were mighty 
men with the axe. I got them to put on a veranda ; 
and in one room, where I kept my books and did my 
writing, we built a big fireplace, and I imported a 
couple of rocking-chairs. (Only one would have 
made me feel too selfish.) The veranda, the open 
fireplace, the books and the rocking-chairs repre- 
sented my special luxuries ; I think Mrs. Sewall and 
Mrs. Dow enjoyed them almost as much as I did. 

We had stoves to keep us warm in the bitter 
winter w^eather and bearskins and buffalo-robes. 
Bill and "Wilmot and I and usually one or two cow- 
hands w^orked hard, but it was enjoyable work and 
the hunting on which we relied for all our meat was, 
of course, sheer fun. When the winter weather set 
in, we usually made a regular hunt to get the winter 
meat and we hung our game in the cottonwood 
trees which stretched before the house. I remem- 
ber once w^hen we had a bull elk and several deer 
hanging up and another time when we had a couple 
of antelope and a yearling mountain-sheep. The 
house of hewn logs was clean and comfortable and 
we were all of us young and strong and happy. 

Wilmot w^as from every standpoint one of the 
best men I ever knew. He has been dead for many 
years. His widow is now Mrs. Pride; and her pres- 
ent husband is also one of my valued friends. 



22 MAIKE, MY STATE 



When I was President, the Sewalls and Prides 
came down to Washington to visit ns. We talked 
over everything, pnblic and private, past and 
present; the education and future careers of our 
children; the proper attitude of the United States in 
external and internal matters. We all of us looked 
at the really important matters of public policy and 
private conduct from substantially the same view- 
point. Never were there more welcome guests at 
the White House. 

■ — Theodore Roosevelt. 

Sagamore Hill, March 20, 191 8. 




EXPLORATION PERIOD 



THE BIRTH OF MAINE 

WE HAVE all heard old things referred to as 
^'old as the hills.'' If it were said ^'old as 
the hills of Maine, ' ' it would signify that the 
thing was very old indeed ! 

Much of what is now our State became solid rock 
and cliff and mountain in the Cambrian and Lower 
Silurian periods. When we look at its gray old 
ledges of slate and shale and the volcanic rocks 
which were pushed up through this first layer from 
the heated masses beneath, we are impressed most of 
all with the great age of these rocks. 

Much of the soil, loose boulders and pebbles, was 
brought here later by the great sheet of ice which 
moved over this part of our continent forming the 
newer soil of our State. Then, little by little, living- 
things appeared, which have left their fossil or pet- 
rified forms in some of the rocks. 

To the eyes of scientists, these fossils tell the his- 
tory of millions of years, and from them and the 
rocks in which they are found, is read a wonderful 
story. 

Slowly life increased and developed, until the sea 
had its multitudes of plant and animal forms, and on 
the land first simple little plants grew; then higher 
and more varied forms. Animal life gradually 
appeared on the land, developed and increased, until 
mjaiads of live things had home here. 

For many years there were no human inhab- 
itants. The birds sang as sweetly as now, while the 

23 



24 MAINE, MY STATE 

animals of field and forest loved and enjoyed this 
land — smiling in the sunshine and greenness of 
summer, or glittering with the frosts and snows of 
winter. 

As History is the story of mankind upon the 
earth, it cannot begin until man has appeared. We 
do not know when or how the first people came, but 
after long ages there were fierce warring tribes in 
various parts of the continent and they began to visit 
our beautiful streams and rugged shores. 

Deposits of shells of this prehistoric age, on the 
beaches, with spots of charcoal here and there, 
show that fire was known and used by these savages 
who roasted and ate the shell-fish. Among the shell 
heaps are found rude weapons of stone and human 
bones, charred and cracked for the marrow, showing 
that these people were cannibals, eating their ene- 
mies or prisoners of war, like the fiercest African 
savages or some of the South Sea Islanders. 

Above this deepest layer of shells is a layer of 
mould, showing that these fierce cannibal tribes had 
wandered away — perhaps had come only in great 
war parties for a season and without bringing their 
families or making homes here. 

The layer of earth shows that many years had 
elapsed before other tribes came, finding these same 
favored spots — the most remarkable being on some 
beaches between the lower Kennebec and the Penob- 
scot rivers. These newer people began also to live 
upon the shell fish and game of the region, making 
other shell heaps, among which are found weapons 
and ornaments of better and more skillful designs. 
The charcoal and bones of later fires are found there, 
but no charred human bones, cracked by cannibals 



THE JBIRTH OF MAINE 25 

in their horrid feasts. These people no longer ate 
human flesh and were no longer mere untaught 
savages. 

The Indians found by the whites dwelling within 
the confines of Maine — the Norridgewocks (or 
Abnakis), Penobscots (or Tarratines), Passama- 
quoddy and Malecite tribes — all have traditions of 
a great hero who taught them much, gave them 
abundant food, cleared their streams and paths for 
them and was good even to all the animals of the 
forest, to the birds and the fishes. 

He is known as ^'Clote Scarp" among the Male- 
cites, as ^*Klas Kom Beth,'* among the Penobscots 
and an old Penobscot Indian gave me yet another 
name and version told him by a descendant of the 
Norridgewocks, the tribe whose remnants fled, some 
to Canada and some to the Penobscot tribe, when 
the English attacked and destroyed Norridgewock 
in 1724. 

This old Penobscot told me of ^^Waban" (The 
Morning) of the Norridgewocks — and of his deeds of 
might and magic very like those of Clote Scarp — 
but he also told that Waban w^as the first child born 
on the Maine shores after the Abnakis (or Waban- 
akis, meaning people of the east or the dawn) 
migrated from central Canada, the original home of 
all the great Algonkin family. 

One day in spring a fleet of canoes had come filled 
with Indians whose descendants are still left here 
and there over our State. There were many men, 
some old and crafty, some young and ardent. And 
they brought with them their families and goods 
and the skins which should cover their summer 
tents on the seashore, while their winter lodges were 



26 MAINE, • MY STATE 

to be built up the rivers in the denser sheltering 
forests. The braves dressed their canoes for fish- 
ing and sailing, or fitted bows and arrows for 
hunting, while the squaws set up the tents and 
arranged their fires and hung up their pots and ket- 
tles, smiling their stolid smiles in their joy at finding 
this new homeland. 

And one morning of the spring a young Indian 
mother brought her little son from her wigwam to 
see for the first time the sunlight and the beautiful 
world. He was the son of a great chief, fierce and 
brave, and his baby fists were clenched as if he 
already felt fierce and brave himself, ready to kill 
all his foes and even to eat their hearts as his ances- 
tors had often done in their wrath. But when he 
looked at the trees bending above him, at the fleecy 
white clouds which tempted him to grasp at them, 
and at his mother's face, proud and loving near him, 
he reached only the nearest with his chubby hand 
and patted it softly and crowed like any little baby 
of the twentieth century. 

His mother's heart must have rejoiced at the 
caress, even though she hoped he would grow, fierce 
and blood-thirsty and kill his enemies or any who 
opposed him. As the child grew, he w^as fierce and 
brave; but he was different from all others. 
Whereas his play-mates wrung the necks of the 
baby gulls which never learned to run away, he 
stroked their downy bodies and set them free. 
Whereas others broke the sparrow's eggs, or crushed 
the field mouse children, he spared them, and he 
talked with all the wild things of the woods, to each 
in its own language. 



THE BIRTH OF MAINE ^7 

When, in the hunt, he had killed his prey, joy of 
the chase seemed his, but there was neither hate nor 
violence in his grasp of the dead deer or waterfowl. 
And when as a brave he grew mightier than all 
others and became the greatest chieftain of them all, 
he taught some measure of mercy to the vanquished 
and forbade others to hate or devour the helpless 
dead. 

So great was his power and magic that he did 
not die like all other old chiefs but walked away 
through the forests to the Great Spirit, still stal- 
wart and strong after many, many moons of life 
among his people, leaving as his descendants all the 
tribe of Maine, strong braves and dutiful squaws — 
keeping always in memory their great ancestor — 
Waban, The Morning — the first of their race born on 
these shores. 

He still clears the streams and forest paths for 
his people till the end of time and helps the wild 
things of the woods. He taught the young part- 
ridges to crouch perfectly motionless, looking like 
leaves among the leaves at the approach of an 
enemy, and when the lynx complained that all the 
other animals were better off than he because his 
eyes could not see prey unless it was moving. 
AYaban gave him, not new e^^es, but such a soft, 
shadowy gray coat that the other animals could not 
distinguish him from the shadows of the forests. 
^^ Waban" seems ^'Clote Scarp," "Klas Kom Beth" 
and *^ Hiawatha" in one. 

And this Abnaki legend tells the birth of 
Maine — with the coming of its first home-makers and 
its first hero who was a great warrior, but also a 
teacher of mercy and the ancestor of the great 



28 MAINE, MY STATE 

Basliaba of the Penobscots, of Samoset of Pemaquid 
and of Sqnanto, who prayed he might go to the 
' ' white man 's heaven. ' \ Maine, as the home of man- 
kind, had begun her long history; her first story that 
of the Red Man or Indian. 

— Mary Dunbar Devereiix. 



THE LOST CITY OF NORUMBEGA 

f 1 AVE you ever read the wonderful tales of the 
I I Baron Munchausen? 

I If you have, you may be interested to know 
that Maine history has a Baron Munchausen of its 
own — one who could make up quite as remarkable 
stories of his adventures as could the renowned Ger- 
man story-teller. This man was David Ingram. His 
stories have not entertained the young people for 
generations nor held a place in the public libraries, 
but they have served a more practical purpose. 
They sent adventurers to the coast of Maine in 
search of the wonderful city of Arembec, and so 
began the exploration and colonization of our State 
which might have been delayed a number of years 
had not this man of wild imagination and lively 
tongue landed, by accident, in the country called 
Norumbega. 

The historians are agreed that David Ingram 
was the first Englishman to bring back to his 
country any detailed report, true or otherwise, 
regarding the ancient Norumbega, and so it is not 
strange that his story attracted wide attention. 
Being of an adventurous nature, young Ingram had 
no notion of spending his life in the dull little hamlet 



THE LOST CITY OF NORUMBEGA 29 

of Barking, Essex, and, like otlier English boj^s who 
wanted to see the world, he went to sea. 

Now Ingram lived in the days when slave- 
traders and pirates were commonplaces of life on 
the seas, and so it is not strange that he should have 
found himself, in 1568, on a ship commanded by 
Oapt. John Hawkins, a slave-trader, bound for the 
newly discovered shores washed by the waters of 
the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean. Hawkins 
was not above piracy, and his coat-of-arms was 
crested with the figure of a negro child bound with 
cords. 

All went well until they put into the harbor of 
John d'Ulloa, where the villainous Capt. Hawkins 
v/as attacked by equally villainous Spaniards, who 
destroyed four ships of his fleet. He managed to 
escape by the skin of his teeth, and, with his two 
remaining vessels, he made port in the mouth of the 
Tampico Eiver on the Mexican Gulf coast. 

All the sailors who had escaped with their lives 
(and there were over a hundred) were crowded into 
these two little vessels and, when the captain took 
account of stock, he found that the greater part of 
his food supply was at the bottom of the sea and that 
what remained would not last his crew a quarter of 
the way across. He decided that, in order to get 
back to England at all, he must dispose of the super- 
fluous crew and this he promptly did by putting 
them ashore to look out for themselves, choosing, of 
course, those that he could best spare. 

To show that Capt. Hawkins wasn^t entirely 
heartless, one survivor has written that he ^^set on 
shore of our company fourscore and sixteen; and 
gave to everyone of us five yards of Roan cloth, and 



30 MAINE, MY STATE 

monie to those who did demand it. Then he lov- 
ingly embraced ns, greatly lamenting our distressed 
state, and having persuaded us to serve God and love 
one another, he bade us all farewell. '^ Then he 
sailed away. 

Just what Capt. Hawkins, thought they could do 
with the ^^Eoan cloth" and with the ^^ monie" in a 
land where there was nothing to buy and nobody 
with whom to trade, we cannot imagine. He left no 
weapons by which they might protect themselves, 
probably fearing attack on himself before he could 
get away. 

That night the marooned sailors slept on the 
sands beside the Pamlico and the next morning they 
started on their almost hopeless journey through the 
semi-tropical wilderness, following the coast. They 
had not gone far before a band of Indians swooped 
down upon them and soon relieved them of their 
^'Roan cloth," their shirts and other garments. 
Those who resisted were killed b}^ the arrows of the 
Indians; the rest, scantily attired, were allowed to 
go their w^ay. The savages pointed out to them the 
direction of Pamlico, the Spanish settlement. 

The company then divided. Half went west- 
ward, in the direction the Indians pointed out, led by 
Anthony Goddard, who, records say, lived to return 
to Plymouth, his home in England. Ingram, with 
his companions, Twid and Brown, travelled north- 
ward, for Ingram knew that the waters of Northern 
America teemed with fish and were visited by his 
own countrymen. They pushed on for miles 
through the forests, occasionally resting with a 
band of friendly Indians they encountered. They 
lived on food supplied them by these same Indians, 



THE LOST CITY OF NORUMBEGA 31 

and, when that gave out, on the berries and green 
vegetables they fonnd along the way. At last, after 
suffering such hardships as you can scarcely believe, 
Ingram, more dead than alive, crossed what is now 
Massachusetts into Norumbega, the land of the 
Bashaba. What became of his companions, the 
records do not tell us. 

David Ingram actually made the journey on foot, 
thru the miles of wilderness between the Gulf of 
Mexico and the St. John's river and there is little 
doubt that he tarried awhile at Norumbega and met 
the Bashaba at his capital, Arembec, the fabled lost 
city of Norumbega. Just what he found there, we 
can only guess, for his own account reads like a 
fairy tale. Just to lie on the rich furs, which the 
natives used lavishly for mats and beds, and to feast 
on the abundance of fish and game, must have 
seemed princely luxury to the famished and footsore 
Ingram and no doubt the brilliancy of the savage 
ornaments dazzled his eyes and their value became 
magnified many times. 

No wonder he found it hard to tear himself away 
from this land of plenty and continue his weary 
march to the St. John's, even when informed by the 
Indians that a ship of the white man was in its 
waters offering him a possibility of soon returning 
home. He found the ship to be the Gagarine and 
her master, Capt. Champagne, gladly offered him 
passage to France, from which he easily worked his 
wav across the Channel and home. 



But perhaps you want to know where Norum- 
bega, which also appears in various manuscripts as 
Norumbegue and Norombega, is located. The 



32 MAINE, MY STATE 

ancient historians and geographers differed widely 
in their ideas of the extent of Norumbega. It cer- 
tainly embraced the country drained by the Penob- 
scot, then known as the river of Norumbega and 
called by the Indians the great river of the Pana- 
wanskek. The lost city of Norumbega is commonly 
believed to have been near the present site of Ban- 
gor, though some historians have located it else- 
where. 

The ancient French fishermen, who visited the 
waters long before the coming of Ingram, called the 
Gulf of Maine, with its 230 or more miles from Cape 
Sable to Cape Cod, the sea of Norumbega. Some of 
the early map-makers made it extend down as far 
as what is now New Jersey and some as far as Vir- 
ginia, while others reckoned it a part of Canada. 
Lok, on his map in 1582, made Norumbega an island 
with the Penobscot as its southern boundary. A 
later traveller described its form as ' ^ very much like 
the figure of a colossal turnip, with a broad head, a 
small body and two thin roots.'' 

Had an English student of the 16th century 
attempted to draw a map according to his knowl- 
edge of this part of the country, it would have been 
a curious looking paper. What limits he would 
have set on Norumbega, north and south, we cannot 
guess, but he surely would have made it a thin strip 
of land, w^ith a body of water, probably no more than 
a strait, separating it from Asia; for all voyagers 
then believed that the northern part of America was 
no more than a small obstruction between the Atlan- 
tic ocean and Asia, and they always were looking for 
a passage that would take them, by a short cut, to 
that rich continent. All below Norumbega he 



THE LOST CITY OF NORUMBEGA 33 

would have marked * ^Florida/' And then, accord- 
ing to the fashion of the map-makers of those days, 
he would have liberally sprinkled the *^Sea of 
Nornmbega" and adjacent waters with sea-mon- 
sters. 

Several French voyagers visited Nornmbega 
before Ingram. In 1556, Andre Thevet, a Catholic 
priest, sailed in a French ship along the entire coast. 
He entered Penobscot, where he spent five days and 
had several conferences with the Indians. He 
found a little fort settlement, which might have been 
used by French fishermen as headquarters during 
the fishing season. 

He says in the records, which still exist: *' Hav- 
ing left La Florida on the left hand, with all its 
islands, gulfs and capes, a river presents itself, 
which is one of the finest rivers in the whole world, 
which we call ^Norumbegue,' and the aborigines, 
^ Agoncy . ' Several other beautiful rivers enter into 
it ; and upon its banks the French formerly erected a 
little fort about ten or twelve leagues from its 
mouth. Before you enter said river, appears an 
island, surroimded by eight very small islets, which 
are near the country of the green mountains and to 
the Cape of the islets. From there you sail along 
into the mouth of the river, which is dangerous from 
the great number of thick and high rocks; and its 
entrance is wonderfully large. 

** About three leagues into the river, an island 
presents itself to you, that may have four leagues in 
circumference, inhabited only by some fishermen 
and birds of different sorts, which island they call 
*Alayascon,' because it has the form of a man's arm, 
which thev call so. 



34 MAINE, MY STATE 

*' Having landed and pnt our feet on the adja- 
cent country, we perceived a great mass of people 
coming down upon us from all sides in such numbers 
that you might have supposed them to have been a 
flight of starlings. And all this people was 
clothed in skins of wild animals, which they call 
'Kabatatz.' '' 

If you have ever taken the sail up the Penobscot, 
from Camden to Bangor, you will recognize this for 
as clear a description as anyone could give, not 
knowing the names of the places he was passing. 
The island ''before you enter the river" was Fox 
Island; the "Green Mountains" the Camden hills, 
and the island like a man's arm, Islesboro. 



But it remained for David Ingram to discover 
or invent the magnificent city of Arembec. His 
stories gained such fame that he was ordered by the 
English government to describe the countries 
through which he had passed in his travels and the 
manuscript is still to be seen in the English State 
Paper Office. This is a small part of his sworn 
statement: 

''The Kings in those Countries are clothed with 
painted or Coulored garments and thereby you may 
know them, and they wear great precious stones 
which commonly are rubies, being 4 inches long and 
2 inches broad, and if the same be taken from them 
either by force or fight, they are presently deprived 
of their Kingdoms. 

"All the people generally wear bracelets as big 
as a man's finger upon each of their arms, and the 
like on each of their ankles, whereof one commonly 
is gold and two silver, and many of the women also 



THE LOST CITY OF NORUMBEGA 35 

do wear great plates of gold covering their bodies 
and many bracelets and chains of great pearls/' 

This and much more like it could not fail to 
arouse in the government an interest to colonize in 
this wondrously rich country. But the sworn state- 
ment was mild in comparison with the tales with 
which Ingram beguiled the crowds at the London 
taverns, when they gathered of evenings to enjoy 
their mugs of ale. His stories gained in the telling 
and he never lacked an audience ready to believe 
every word. It was easy to start him back over the 
2000-mile trail from the Gulf of Mexico to the Gulf 
of Maine, and when he reached the magic city of the 
Bashaba his listeners fairly held their breath. 

The country wherein lies this marvelous city 
was a country of great rivers and waterfalls, so he 
told them. There was gold to be picked up with 
the sands of the sea; great stores of silver and cop- 
per in the rocks, to be had for the digging; pieces of 
gold in the rivers as big as a man's fist and fine 
pearls, which he himself had gathered but became 
tired of carrying and so threw them away. He had 
come upon a great crowd of people gathered by the 
shore to feast on the quahog, a strange fish on which 
they gorged themselves for several days together, 
until there was left nothing but enormous shell 
heaps. Ingram may, in truth, have seen such shell 
heaps, for remains of them are still to be found along 
our Maine coast. 

These natives, he further related to his fasci- 
nated listeners, were finely dressed in soft skins, 
with ornaments of gold and with strings of pearls, in 
which the rivers abounded. He had been most 
courteously treated by them, and their chief men, 



36 MAINE, MY STATE 

who were called Sagamos, had insisted on his accom- 
panying them eastward to their Bashaba. While 
yet far distant, his eyes had been dazzled by the 
I oofs and towers of the wonder city, Arembec, which 
glowed like living coals above the tree-tops, by 
reason of the gold that covered them. 

He had made the journey to the marvelous city 
by canoe and the great Bashaba, having been 
informed of his approach, had sent an escort down 
river and, when he arrived, had received him with 
all honors. I could not begin to give you the 
description of the Lost City of Norumbega, as 
Ingram gave it, or of the Bashaba 's palace, whose 
roof, he informed them, was upheld by twelve great 
pillars of polished silver and whose entrance was of 
solid crystal inlaid with precious stones, leading 
into a great hall, whose walls were lined with the 
finest gold to the ceiling which was of silver. He 
told of the rugs and coverings of the choicest skins 
and furs, which were everywhere under foot, not 
only in the palace of the Bashaba, but in the dwell- 
ings of the natives as well. There was probably 
some foundation for this part of the story, for the 
Indians never lacked for skins as long as animals 
were abundant and easily killed by their arrows. 

The houses along the main street of the city were 
white and shining, with roofs, some of silver and 
some of copper, with wonderful entrances of crystal, 
hooded with beaten silver and with doors of bur- 
nished copper. Such a house the Bashaba bestowed 
on Ingram, with a squaw to cook his food, rich skins 
to replace his tattered shreds of clothing, and a sup- 
ply of bows and arrows, bidding him stay as long as 
he liked. 



THELOST CITY OF NORUMBEGA 37 

Being tanned by sun and wind to a copper color, 
when dressed in native costume Ingram's appear- 
ance mightily pleased the Bashaba, so he affirmed, 
and the ruler of all Norumbega had insisted on his 
remaining and becoming one of the tribe and even 
now he might have been there, had he not got wind 
of the white man's ship upon the St. John's, and his 
longing for a sight of home got the better of his 
admiration for a country where gold was more com- 
mon than lead was in England and where, in almost 
every house, was a bucket of pearls. 

I fear that you will not recognize any part of 
your State of Maine from this description, and 
neither did the adventurers who later arrived there, 
after many difficulties. The city of gold and 
precious stones had disappeared, without leaving a 
trace of its magnificence, except in the fanciful mind 
of David Ingram. 

There is no doubt, however, that Ingram's 
stories spurred on the adventurers and navigators 
of the times to investigate the land of riches and to 
start colonization. They stirred Sir Humphrey Gil- 
bert to hasten preparations for his expedition, which 
turned out disastrously, and they even reached the 
ears of the French. It may have been these self- 
same tales which aroused Eoberval, a favorite of the 
French king, to persuade King Francis to make him 
Lord of Norumbega, as well as Viceroy of Canada, 
with the right of raising a band of volunteers to 
found a colony, although he gave, as his philan- 
thropic object, ^*the conversion of the Indians, men 
without knowledge of God or use of reason." Any- 
how, the high-sounding title was actually conferred 
upon him. 



38 MAINE, MY STATE 

The most renowned of the French explorers, who 
frankly made one of his objects the search for the 
fabled city of Arembec, was Samuel Champlain, 
who, as pilot, accompanied DeMonts on his expedi- 
tion in 1604. This was noteworthy as the first 
expedition to the Maine coast, with the object of 
founding a permanent colony. 

— Emmie Bailey Whitney. 



MAINE'S FIRST CHRISTMAS OBSERVANCE 

DID YOU know that the very first Christmas 
observance in New England, if not the first 
in our country, was in Maine? It was on a 
desolate little island at the mouth of the St. Croix 
River, about sixteen miles below Calais, called ' ^ The 
Isle of the Holy Cross" by the adventurous little 
band who had settled there. 

You have read all about the first Thanksgiving 
day, appointed by Gov. Bradford to celebrate the 
first successful harvest of the Colonists on the Ply- 
mouth shore; but our school histories have nothing 
to say about the first Christmas, celebrated, not by 
the Massachusetts colonists, who did not approve of 
Christmas merry-makings, but by a little band of 
Frenchmen, headed by DeMonts and Champlain, six- 
teen years before the coming of the Pilgrims. We 
may feel sure that this was the first Christmas cele- 
bration, for it was the first settlement attempted by 
white men, even for a few months, on our shores. 

The Maine Christmas of 1604 was as different as 
possible from the Christmas days you know. To 
begin with, there were no women or children to take 



Maine ^s FitisT cJiristmas observance 39 

part in the festivities and what is Christmas with- 
out the little folks'^ There was no Christmas 
tree — although trees were the most abundant things 
the island afforded and easily could have been 
cut — but what would have been the use of a tree 
when they had no presents to hang on it and no chil- 
dren to admire and exclaim over it I The usual 
Christmas dainties were lacking, too, as you might 
expect, where men must do all the cooking and there 
were no shops from which to purchase supplies. Yet 
we read that they had a feast and you who know the 
delicious taste of a roast haunch of venison or a 
savory rabbit stew, may believe it was very good 
indeed, for game was plentiful. There were a few 
luxuries, too, brought from the old country, for they 
had not yet felt the need of hoarding their food 
supply. 

It was a white Christmas, such as we in Maine 
know so well. Snow came early that year and cov- 
ered everything with a thick, white blanket while the 
river was filled with ice. What if the wind did roar 
through the trees and whistle down the flues ! Their 
houses were well built and there was plenty of wood 
to heap upon the fires. These gay, light-hearted and 
venturesome Frenchmen, always ready for laughter 
and jest, were quite different from the sober and 
serious-minded Pilgrims of Plymouth. Fortu- 
nately, they could not foresee the terrible severity 
of the winter and the sufferings they must undergo 
before spring, and they celebrated their holiday in 
merry and care-free mood. 

But first, they attended solenm services in the 
little chapel, just completed. There were probably 
two services, one for the Protestants, conducted by 



40 Maine, my stat^ 

their minister, the other for the Catholics, with a 
priest in charge. The older men gathered in the 
large hall, built for recreation and meetings, around 
the blazing fires, and told stories of previous adven- 
tures and recalled happy days in France. The young 
men went skating upon the river and rabbit-hunting 
along the shores. 

Later came the feasting and merry-making. A 
special feature of the entertainment was the reading 
of a little paper, called the *^ Master William," 
which enlivened their spirits during the winter. 
Of course it was written instead of printed, and 
there was but one copy, which was passed around 
from one to another or read aloud before the com- 
pany. It contained the daily events and gossip of 
the settlement, and we may be sure the witty 
Frenchnien worked in some bright jokes at each 
other's expense. It is a pity no copies of this first 
American newspaper were preserved. However, 
Champlain makes mention of it in his journal. 

While DeMonts was commissioned the head of the 
expedition to form a colony on the North American 
shores, Samuel Champlain, historian and navigator, 
was the real, live spirit of the party and responsible 
for much of the Christmas gaiety. It was he who 
led the explorations, who gave courage and ambition 
to the men and even to the leader, DeMonts, him- 
self, and who made the first reliable and fairly accu- 
rate maps and charts of the Maine and Massachu- 
setts coast. No more gallant and picturesque char- 
acter is to be found in our early history than this 
*Hrue Viking.'' 

Probably you know Champlain best in connec- 
tion with the lake which bears his name, on the 




c 



o 

u 

O 



C/2 



O 



c 
o 

Q 
c 



o 






'a 
S 

O 



0) 

O 



42 MAINE, MY STATE 

western border of Vermont, and as the founder of 
Quebec. You may never have thought of him in 
connection with the history of your own State. The 
general histories of the United States seem to have 
neglected that part of his career, but Champlain 
himself thought it of sufficient importance to give 
many pages of his journal and his '' Voyages" to 
descriptions of the Maine coast and his temporary 
settlement at St. Croix. 

They are still to be seen — these curious journals 
of Champlain, written in French, in stiff, precise 
handwriting, something like that you see in very 
old copybooks, generously illustrated with colored 
pictures of the ports, islands, harbors and rivers he 
visited, besprinkled with the beasts, birds and fish 
that inhabited them, all drawn as your small brother 
might draw them and with quite as entire disregard 
of the rules of drawing. However, when Champlain 
drew pictures of Indians feasting, dancing and 
scalping their victims, he left no room for doubts 
as to what his pictures represented. 

Champlain was born in 1567, in the little French 
town of Brouage, on the Bay of Biscay. His father 
was a captain in the royal navy and one of his uncles 
was pilot in the king's service. So you see he was 
familiar with boats from his childhood. He was 
equally familiar with warfare, for all through his 
boyhood, civil and religious wars were going on in 
France, and Brouage was an important military 
post. He saw his home town frequently attacked, 
captured, restored and re-captured, and soldiers and 
the noise of battle were matter-of-course to him. 
There were periods of peace, however, and then 



Maine's fiest Christmas oeservance 43 

Samuel attended good schools and learned to write 
fluently, to draw maps and think for himself. 

Of course Samuel fought for his king. He was 
made a quartermaster, but little is known of his 
army life. He also took every opportunity to travel 
and on one voyage visited the West Indies and 
finally explored inland as far as the city of Mexico. 
He stopped at Panama and the idea occurred to him 
that a ship canal cut thru the Isthmus would be a 
great institution and '^shorten the voyage to the 
South Sea more than 1500 leagues.'' Such a canal, 
as you remember, was opened to the Avorld but a very 
few years ago — more than two centuries and a half 
after Champlain thought of it. 

On his first trij) to North American shores, 
Champlain sailed up the St. Lawrence River as far 
as Montreal. Returning with a wonderful narrative 
of his adventures, he found King Henry and his 
viceroy, DeMonts, planning the founding of a col- 
ony in Acadie, on the northern shores of America. 

What more natural, in looking for a pilot for the 
expedition, than that they should turn to Champlain, 
an experienced and courageous navigator, who was 
both soldier and sailor and who combined bravery 
with prudence and determination with light-hearted- 
ness. 

So, in the early spring of 1604, Champlain sailed 
with DeMonts in one of his vessels. Pontgrave, with 
whom Champlain had made the trip up the St. Law^- 
rence the year before, followed a few days later, 
with supplies for the new colony. 

Picture in your mind the quaint little vessel, no 
larger than the fishing smack of today, gliding under 
the frowning crags of Grand Maiian, on a beautiful 



44 MAINE, MY STATE 

morning in early summer, and up the river which 
marks today the boundary of Maine and New Bruns- 
wick. Crowded on the decks was as curiously 
assorted a company as ever set out to found a colony. 
The best of France were mingled with the meanest. 
There were nobles from the court of Henry IV. and 
thieves from the Paris prisons. There were Catholic 
priests rubbing elbows with Huguenot ministers; 
there were volunteers from noble families and ruf- 
fians flying from justice. 

While the company lacked the unity which made 
the famous Plymouth colony live, in spite of hard- 
ships, there were competent men as leaders and 
DeMonts had companions of his own kind. There 
were two of his old comrades in service, Jean Bien- 
court and the Baron de Poutrincourt; Samuel Cham- 
plain, skilled pilot and royal geographer; Sieur 
Raleau, DeMonts' secretary; Messire Aubry, priest; 
M. Simon, mineralogist, two surgeons and other men 
of education and position, who are mentioned by 
Champlain in his journal. Later, they were joined 
by Lescarbot, a jolly, good-humored fellow, who 
proved such a ^'good sport" that he added much to 
the cheer of the colony and he left some of the most 
entertaining accounts that have been written of any 
of the early explorations. He was a natural born 
story-teller and entertainer, a poet and familiar 
with classic myth and literature, as his writings 
show. Less matter-of-fact than Champlain, he had 
an eye for the humorous and the picturesque. 

They had sailed but a few miles up the river of 
the Etechemins, when they came upon a small 
island, containing some twelve or fifteen acres, and 
fenced round with rocks and shoals. Both Cham- 



MAINE S FIEST CHRISTMAS OBSERVANCE 45 

plain and DeMonts were mucli taken with this 
island. 

Anchors went overboard and all hastened to go 
on land. That very day a barricade was com- 
menced on a little inlet and a place made for the can- 
non, the men working as fast as they conld, consid- 
ering the mosquitoes, for Champlain wrote: *'the 
little flies annoyed ns excessively in our work, for 
there were several of our men whose faces were so 
swollen by their bites that they could scarcely see. ^ ' 

DeMonts named the island St. Croix because 
*Hwo leagues higher there were two brooks which 
came crosswise to fall within this large branch of 
the sea.'' 

According to all accounts, the island presented a 
very busy scene for the next few weeks. At its 
southern extremity, DeMonts planted the heavy 
guns. Not so many years ago cannon balls were 
dug out of the sward here, and, near the close of the 
eighteenth century, when the boundary between the 
United States and Canada was being settled, the 
commissioners traced , the foundations of buildings 
long since crumbled away, the only remains of the 
first settlement on the Maine coast. 

First there was the line of palisades to be estab- 
lished on the north side of the island. Champlain 
showed himself to be no less useful on land than on 
sea. He it was who drew the plans for the new col- 
ony. He located the buildings for sheltering its 
members, the workshops, a well and two great gar- 
den plats. When DeMonts had located the store- 
house and seen it started, he gave his attention to a 
residence for himself, which, the chronicles say, was 
built by good workmen. 



46 



MAINE, MY STATE 



The end of August saw the work so well advanced 
that DeMonts sent his friend, Poutrincourt, back to 
France, he agreeing to return in the spring with 
reinforcements and supplies. DeMonts kept one 
ship with Capt. Timothee to command it, and sev- 
enty-nine men. This was three months before the 
Christmas day of which you have just read. 

— Emmie Bailey Whitney. 




DeMonts' Colony|Memorial on St. Croix. 

Unveiled June 25, 1904 



ALONG THE MAINE COAST WITH CHAMPLAlK 



47 



ALONG THE MAINE COAST WITH 
CHAMPLAIN 



IT Wx\S riglit away after Pontrincourt's return to 
France that Cliamplain started ont on an enter- 
prise of liis own. He had long cherished an ambi- 
tion to search out the fabled city of Norumbega, 
which, he reckoned, could not be many leagues from 
St. Croix, and find out for himself how much truth 
there was in the glowing reports of David Ingram. 

I may as well tell jou 
now that in this Cham- 
plain was disappointed. 
He confessed that ^' there 
are none of the marvels 
which some persons have 
described, ' ' although he 
Adsited the precise loca- 
tion of Pentagoet. He 
recorded with some dis- 
gust, ^^I will say that 
since our entry where we 
were, which is about 
twenty-four leagues, we 
saw not a single town nor 
village nor the appearance 
of one having been there, 
but only one or two huts 
of the savages where there 




Samuel Champlain 

was nobodv. " 



Marc Lescarbot, also, wrote in his usual blithe 
style : ^ ' If this beautiful town ever existed in Nature, 



48 MAINE, MY STATE 

I would like to know who pulled it down, for there is 
nothing but huts here made of pickets and covered 
with the bark of trees or with skins. ' ' 

It was the second or third day of September that 
Champlain set out with, some historians say, twelve, 
and some say seventeen men of the colony and two 
Indians as guides, in his ^^patache." This big, open 
boat, fitted with a lateen sail and oars, is pictured in 
Champlain 's drawing of the St. Croix settlement. 

The second day out they passed an island some 
four or five leagues long. *^The island is high and 
notched in places so that from the sea it gives the 
appearance of a range of seven or eight mountains. 
The summits are all bare and rocky. The slopes are 
covered with pines, firs and birches. I named it Les 
Isles des Monts Deserts," Champlain wrote. And 
this is the first account of the naming of Mouat 
Desert island, on which is Blar Harbor, the now 
famous summer resort. 

**0n the third day the savages came alongside 
and talked with our savages. I ordered biscuit, 
tobacco and other trifles to be given to them. We 
made an alliance with them and they agreed to 
guide us to their river of Peimtgouet, so called of 
them, where they told us was their captain, named 
Bessabez, chief of that place." 

The river was the Penobscot we know so well, 
and the stopping place, where the council with the 
Indians was held, was the present site of Bangor. 

Champlain, continuing on his voyage of discov- 
ery, sailed down the river, passed out by OwPs Head 
and westward to the Kennebec, which he called 
Qinnibequy. He arrived at St. Croix, having been 
away just a month. They did not reach the settle- 



ALONG THE MAINE COAST WITH CHAMPLAIN 



49 



ment any too soon. Snow fell that year as early as 
the 6th of October, and by Christmas, as you have 
already seen, winter had set in with unusnal 
severity. 




i ,«4' 







Champlain's Sketch of St. Croix Settlement 

^' Hoary snow-father being come,'' as the poeti- 
cal Lescarbot expresses it, ''they were forced to 
keep much wdthin the doors of their dwellings.'' 

When the north winds swept down the river and 
whistled through the rows of cedars, the sole pro- 
tection of the island against the wintry blasts, the 
poor Frenchmen did not venture out-doors, but shiv- 
ered around their fires and Champlain remarked 



50 MAINE, MY STATE 

tliat *Hhe air that came in throngli the cracks was 
colder than that outside." There were no cellars 
under the houses so vegetables and every liquid 
froze. Champlain mentions dealing out the frozen 
cider by the pound. 

Their fare, too, was scanty. They ground their 
grain, as they needed it, in a hand mill, a tiresome 
process. They had salt meat only. This soon began 
to affect the health of the men. Scurvy broke out. 
The colony physicians had all they could do, but it 
is not likely that they had the proper medicines, and 
out of the seventy-nine men, thirty-five died before 
spring and others were bloated and disfigured. 

It was not until the fifteenth of June, as the guard 
went his rounds a little before midnight, that Pont- 
Grave, so long and anxiously awaited, came in a 
shallop, with the news that his ship was but six 
leagues away, lying safely at anchor. There was 
great rejoicing at the settlement and little sleep for 
anyone for the rest of the night. 

Two days after the arrival of Pont-Grave's ship, 
Champlain set out on a second voyage down the 
coast. With him were M. Simon and several other 
gentlemen and twenty sailors to man the boat, also 
the Indian, Panounais, and his squaw, as guides. 

It was an eventful voyage and Champlain writes 
fully and entertainingly about it. 

Near Prout's Neck more than eighty of the sav- 
ages ran down to the shore to meet the strangers, 
'* dancing and yelping to show their joy." 

The Indians believed there was some magic about 
Champlain and his companions, who, they said, 
'*must have dropped from the clouds." When 
Champlain was invited to a feast of the Indians, he 



ALONG THE MAINE COAST WITH CHAMPLAIN 51 

was told by his Indian guide that he must not refuse. 
So he took his place among them, ^* squatted on the 
skins spread for the guests of honor, around largo 
kettles of fish, bear's meat, pease and wild plums, 
mixed with the raisins and biscuits they had pro- 
cured in trade with the white men, the whole well 
boiled together and well stirred with a canoe 
paddle. '^ 

When Champlain showed great hesitancy in eat- 
ing the portion set before him, we are informed in 
the chronicles that his hosts tried to tempt his appe- 
tite with a large lump of bear's fat, a supreme lux- 
ury in their estimation, whereupon he took a hasty 
leave, stopping only to exclaim, ''Ho, ho, ho," 
wdiich his guide informed him was the proper way of 
saying ''please excuse me," to an Indian host. 

On July twelfth, Champlain and his party left the 
Prout 's Neck vicinity and steered their course ' ' like 
some adventurous party of pleasure," we are told, 
by the beaches of York and Wells, Portsmouth Har- 
bor, Isles of Shoals, Rye Beach and Hampton 
Beach, and into Massachusetts Bay, which they 
explored at their leisure. Champlain was the most 
troubled by the mosquitoes, which "pestered him 
beyond endurance," to use his own words. 

DeMonts found no place on the Massachusetts 
coast more suitable for his colony than St. Croix and 
by July 29 they were back at the mouth of the Ken- 
nebec, where they had an interview wdth the Indian 
chieftain, who gave them new^s of another European 
ship on the coast. From their description it must 
have been the Archangel, commanded by George 
Weymouth, who was navigating the New England 



52 MAINE, MY STATE 

coast at that time. It is the only reference made to 
Weymouth in any of Champlain's writings. 

Provisions were getting low, so they steered once 
more for St. Croix. Aside from the killing of the 
sailor by the Indians, bnt one other tragedy marked 
the year of 1605. It was the killing, by the Penob- 
scot Indians, of their faithful guide, Panounais. 
The body of the dead Indian was brought from 
Norumbega to his friends in St. Croix, where an 
imposing funeral was held. You may like to read 
Champlain's description of the savage ceremony. 
He writes: 

^*As soon as the bod}^ was brought on shore, his 
relatives and friends began to shout by his side, 
having painted their faces black, which is their 
mode of mourning. After lamenting much, they 
took a quantity of tobacco and two or three other 
things belonging to the deceased and burned them 
some thousand paces from our settlement. Their 
cries continued until they returned to their cabin. 
The next day they took the body of the deceased and 
wrapped it in a red covering, which Mambretou, 
chief of the place, urgently implored me to give, 
since it was handsome and large. He gave it to the 
relatives of the deceased, who thanked me very 
much for it. 

^'And thus, wrapping up the body, they deco- 
rated it with several kinds of malachiats; that is, 
strings of beads and bracelets of divers colors. 
They painted the face and put on the head many 
feathers and other things, the finest they had, then 
they placed the body on its knees, between two 
sticks, with another under the arms to sustain it. 
Around the body were the mother, wife and other of 



ALONG THE MAINE COAST WITH CHAMPLAIN 58 

the relatives of the deceased, both women and girls, 
howling like wolves. 

** While the women and girls were shrieking, the 
savage named Mambreton made a speech to his com- 
IDanions on the death of the deceased, urging all to 
take vengeance for the wickedness and treachery 
committed by the subjects of the Bessabez, and to 
make war on them as speedily as possible. After 
this the body was carried to another cabin and after 
smoking tobacco together, they wrapped it in an 
elkskin likewise and binding it very securely, they 
kept it for a larger gathering of savages, so a larger 
number of presents would be given to the widow and 
children. ' ' 

Soon after this, DeMonts and Champlain moved 
the whole settlement to Port Royal. DeMonts soon 
sailed for France. The indomitable Champlain vol- 
unteered to brave another winter in the wilds and 
we are glad to read in his journal that ^ ' we spent the 
winter very pleasantly." 

And now that you have followed Champlain 's 
adventures along the Maine coast, you may want to 
trace them further, among the Indians of Vermont, 
New York and the Great Lakes region, and to learn 
how he became the father of Canada; how his blithe 
courage planted the fleur-de-lis on the rock of Que- 
bec. There, on Christmas day of 1635, just thirty- 
one years after his Christmas celebration in Maine, 
he died, striving to the last for the welfare of his 
colony, *^for the glory of France and the church." 

As for St. Croix, which he first helped to settle, 
it was never after deserted for long at a time. It 
remained the most southern foothold of the French 
until the cession of Canada to the English in 1763. 

— Emmie Bailey Whitney. 



54 



MAINE, MY STATE 



THE VOYAGE OF THE ARCHANGEL 



O' N A PLEASANT day in May, 1605, more than 
three centuries ago, a white-winged ship 
came to anchor off the rocky shores of the 
island now known as Monhegan. It was the Arch- 
angel, commanded by George Weymouth, forty-five 
days out from England. 




The Archangel 

Fuel and water being scarce upon the ship, Wey- 
mouth, with several of his men, went on shore to pro- 
cure these necessaries. ^'Mayhap we shall see some 
of the savage people whom others have seen on these 
shores," said one of the men as they neared the 
coast. No trace of human habitation could be seen. 
Where now may be found the gray fish-houses, piles 
of lobster-traps, neat cottages, and the great light- 
house standing over all like a lone sentinel which 
never sleeps, then were only great, gray rocks half 
hidden beneath riotous masses of wild rose and 
yew, and an unbroken stretch of primeval forest. 



THE VOYAGE OF THE ARCHANGEL 55 

When the Englishmen had obtained wood and 
water sufficient for their needs, they made their way 
toward the shore. Suddenly one of them stopped 
near a pile of loose stones. ^ * What have we here f ^ ' 
he cried. *^Look! these are the ashes and charred 
remains of a fire. Those who built it must have fled 
at our approach.*'^ 

All eyes eagerly scanned the landscape, but no 
unfamiliar face or form appeared. Amid the 
screaming of seagulls, they planted a cross, naming 
the island St. George, then rowed back to the Arch- 
angel. 

The Archangel remained at her anchorage that 
night, and on the following day, because the vessel 
^^rode too much open to the sea and winds,'' Wey- 
mouth weighed anchor and brought his vessel to the 
other islands nearer the mainland in the direction 
of the mountains. 

With great interest Weymouth and his crew 
landed upon one of the islands (probably what is 
now known as Allen's Island, in St. Georges Har- 
bor.) Very soon a discovery was made by the mate, 
Thomas Cam, which brought all around him. 
^'Here has been a fire!" he exclaimed, ^^and see the 
great shells lying all about!" Pieces of large shells 
and bones littered the ground; evidently a feast had 
been held there not long ago. A careful search, 
however, failed to reveal any further trace of human 
beings. 

The next week furnished plenty of work; the 
building of the shallop went speedily forward. The 
neighboring islands were explored. On the twenty- 
ninth of May, the shallop was finished and, leaving 
fourteen men on the Archangel, Captain Weymouth, 



56 MAINE, MY STATE 

with thirteen others, started on an exploring expedi- 
tion inland. 

** There does not seem to be much treasure on 
these islands/' said Thomas Cam to one of his com- 
rades, Owen Griffith, as they gazed from the side of 
the ship over the island-dotted expanse of water 
which Weymouth, because of the season, had called 
Pentecost Harbor. 

^* Neither of treasure nor of people have I had a 
sight," replied the man Griffith, ^^and yet the fires 
would show the land to be inhabited. Perhaps the 
sight of our goodly ship has filled them with fear, 
so that they flee from us. ' ' 

** 'Tis a noble land in which the king may build 
a powerful empire,'' said the other, ''and mightily 
enrich himself in so doing." Suddenly he stopped, 
shading his eyes with his hand. ''Ha, Master Grif- 
fith," he cried, "at least one wish is about to be 
gratified; yonder come three canoes filled with 
savages!" 

With excited shouts the crew lined the side of 
the vessel, watching eagerly while the savages 
landed on an island opposite, staring in wonder at 
the strange vision of the white-sailed ship and the 
white-faced, bearded men who stood upon its deck. 
Presently, in answer to the inviting gestures of the 
white man, a canoe in which were three natives was 
paddled boldly toward the ship. As they came 
alongside one raised an oar and pointed fiercely 
toward the open sea, at the same time exclaiming 
loudly in a harsh, unknown tongue. 

"They do not seem to like our company," said 
the mate, " 'tis a pity we can not speak their 



THE VOYAGE OF THE ARCHANGEL 67 

language. Show them some knives and glasses and 
the rings and other trinkets we have with ns. ' ' 

These were quickly brought and displayed to the 
delighted eyes of the natives who brought their frail 
canoe still nearer to see these wonderful toys at 
closer range. It was now but an easy step to induce 
the three to climb over the side of the Archangel. 
Sounds of wonder and delight burst from them as 
they wandered freely about the vessel, one even ven- 
turing below. Food was offered them and they 
gladly ate the cooked, but the raw disgusted them. 
They hung joyously over a collection of combs, ket- 
tles and armor, but the sight and sound of the 
matchlocks filled them with unmeasured fear. 

It was with equal surprise and pleasure that the 
Englishmen gazed at their strange visitors, repre- 
sentatives of this vast New World. They were well 
formed, of medium build, bodies painted black, faces 
red or blue and eyebrows white, and clothed in man- 
tles and moccasins of deerskin. By signs the white 
men told them that they wished to trade knives and 
trinkets for furs, which seemed to satisfy the sav- 
ages and with many a backward glance they at last 
took their departure. 

About ten o 'clock the shallop bearing Capt. Wey- 
mouth returned. He bore the news of the discovery 
of a great river and the stories which each party had 
to relate were heard with eager interest. 

''To-morrow,'' said Capt. Weymouth, ''we will 
go on shore and trade. Let us do nothing to 
frighten these savages who seem peaceable enough. ' ' 

This plan of trade was carried out. The natives 
were delighted to exchange beaver and otter skins 
for worthless trinkets, and now wholly without fear 



58 MAINE, MY STATE 

crowded closely about the white strangers. Presents 
were brought of tobacco, of which these natives cul- 
tivated small quantities and smoked it in pipes made 
of lobster claws. 

''Let us show them some wonders,'' said Wey- 
mouth, and, with the point of his sword previously 
touched by a magnet, he picked up a knife holding it 
high in the air. The wonder of the savages was 
intense. Presently one of the boldest seized the 
knife and drew it away, then hastily dropped it as if 
fearful of coming to harm. Holding the sword 
point close, Weymouth caused the knife to turn in 
different directions; the same bold native tried to 
imitate the act with his bone-headed dart, but fail- 
ure of course resulted. 

"Let us try to get some of them to go back to the 
ship with us, ' ' said the mate to Weymouth. ' ' Those 
who came yesterday went away much pleased and 
others will doubtless hold it a high honor." 

The captain agreed and with very little urging 
two of the natives entered the shallop and the crew 
returned to the Archangel. As they sprang upon 
the deck one of the ship's dogs ran forward sniffing 
and barking furiously. With every sign of fear, the 
natives turned and seemed about to fling themselves 
into the sea. 

"Tie those dogs!" roared Weymouth, then with 
kind tones and gestures reassured his dusky guests 
until their confidence returned and they wandered 
as freely over the ship as the visitors of the day 
before. Of the food offered them, peas seemed to 
please them most. By signs they expressed a wish 
to carry some back to their friends, and a quantity 
was given them in a metal dish which they returned 



THE VOYAGE OF THE ARCHANGEL 59 

later with great care. At their departure others 
came and finally three were persuaded to remain 
on board all night, one of the white men being left 
on shore as a sort of guarantee of good faith, 
although the trust of the Indians was so great that 
none was needed. 

That night Weymouth stood in the soft June 
starlight and gazed on the dark forms of the sleep- 
ing savages as they lay on the deck covered with an 
old sail. *^How great w^ould be the pleasure of the 
king and certain noble gentry of England to behold 
these strange people,'' he thought. "They are ever 
interested in tales of this great New World." Then 
of a sudden he smote his palms softly together and 
turned sharply to Thomas Cam who stood near. 
"Cam!" he said, "what say ye, shall we take some 
of these knaves with us when the Archangel turns 
her prow toward England? What easier task — see 
how the poor fools trust us!" and he gave a half 
contemptuous laugh. 

The mate whistled softly in his beard. " 'Twould 
surely bring us great notice and reward, ' ' he said at 
last. "His majesty ever listens eagerly to adven- 
turers from over seas, and 'twere easy enough to be 
done; yet," he spoke hesitatingly, "it seems but a 
poor return and not half honorable." 

"What know they of honor," cried We^onouth 
impatiently, "they are but beasts. Canst talk of 
honor with a dog? Be sensible, man, and think of 
the great good we may give our countrymen by thus 
turning their eyes to this new land." 

" ' Tis doubtless as you say," replied Cam, begin- 
ning to yield, * * yet me thinks even a dog knows grat- 
itude and will repay treachery. However, if you 



60 MAINE, MY STATE 

wisli it, we are bound to obey your commands, and 
perchance no harm will come of it." 

At this point one of the savages stirred in his 
sleep and tossed a dusky arm above his head. 

" 'Tis as if he held a weapon ready to strike!" 
muttered Cam drawing back a step. 

*'Away with such fears!" cried Weymouth strik- 
ing his comrade a resounding blow between the 
shoulders. ^'What spirit is this for discoverers in 
unknown wilds! Come, let us discuss the plan." 

A week later the Archangel had completed her 
Avork and had shipped a large quantity of furs. 
The thoughts of all now turned homeward. One 
afternoon two canoes with three Indians visited the 
ship, while two other savages remained on the shore 
of a nearby island seated by a fire built on the rocks. 

^^This is our chance," said Weymouth to his 
men. ''Get some of them to go below and do not 
allow them to come back on deck. ' ' 

Two painted faces at that moment appeared over 
the side of the vessel. Griffith wall^ed up to them 
with a pleasant smile. ''Come below with me," he 
said, "I have something new to show you." The 
simple natives understood his signs but not his 
words and readily followed him below. The others 
would not leave their canoes. A plate of peas was 
passed down to them which they received with 
exclamations of pleasure and hurried to the island 
to share the dainty w^ith their relatives. The peas 
were rapidly eaten and a young savage, seizing a 
pewter plate, leaped into a canoe and returned to the 
ship, joining the others below where he found him- 
self a prisoner. Three other savages were now held 
captive on the Archangel. As this number did not 



THE VOYAGE OF THE ARCHANGEL 



61 



satisfy Wejmiouth, the shallop with eight men was 
sent to the shore as if to trade. 

At their approach three of the natives retired to 
the woods, but the other two advanced and received 
the proffered gifts of some combs and another plate 
of their favorite eatable. All made their way over 
the rocks and seaweed and sat down around the fire. 




Cross on Allen's Island 
Erected on 300th Anniversary of Weymouth's Visit 

Never had the white men been more courteous and 
peaceful in their behavior; never had the simple 
natives showed more fully their gratitude and trust. 
Then as suddenly as the tiger springs upon its 
prey did the treacherous Europeans fall upon their 
unsuspecting hosts. As fear rushed in to take the 
place of confidence, it required the strength of all 



62 MAINE, MY STATE 

the eight to hold the slippery, struggling bodies of 
their captives and bear them to the boat. 

In high spirits Weymouth greeted the return of 
the crew. ' ' This will be enough, ' ' he said. ^ ' Take 
them below with their comrades. I have just learned 
that one of them is a special prize — a chieftain 
named Nahanada. Now we will go home.'' 

With despairing hearts these victims of Wey- 
mouth's treachery were dragged from the deck 
of the Archangel never expecting to behold their 
native shores again. How little could they imagine 
the strange life which for the next three years was 
to be theirs; to be transplanted to a foreign land 
and gazed at by the curious eyes of a great metrop- 
olis; then, w^hen the new tongue was mastered, to 
relate to the wondering ear of royalty the story of a 
mighty land with its unbounded riches of sea and 
shore; and finally to be restored to their own people 
to act as guides to future voyagers! 



Note. — Some authorities hold that the mountains seen by 
Weymouth, or Waymouth, as his name is often spelled, were 
the White Mountains and that the harbor into which he 
sailed was Boothbay and the river, the Kennebec. The 
White Mountains, however, are seen from Monhegan only 
under the most favorable conditions. There seems little 
doubt that the mountains were the Camden Hills, and the 
islands which the Weymouth party explored after leaving 
Monhegan were the islands in George's Harbor, near 
Thomaston, including Allen's and Burnt Island. 

In July, 1905, the Maine Historical Society celebrated 
the tercentenary of. Weymouth's voyage, and on Allen's 
Island erected and dedicated a memorial cross. 



THE BOY AND THE BOAT 63 

Could Weymouth have foreseen the acts of bit- 
ter revenge which were to be heaped upon the heads 
of the innocent as well as the guilty as the result of 
this unfriendly deed, perhaps he would have re- 
pented and released his captives to return to their 
forest homes. But repentance was now too late — 
the Archangel was swiftly cleaving her way through 
the blue waters toward the longed-for shores of old 
England. 

Thus was committed, near the magnificent har- 
bor of St. Georges, the deed which was to cause the 
Indians to regard all Englishmen with hatred and 
distrust; and was to turn the attention of all Eng- 
land to the splendor and riches of the coast of Maine. 

— Charlotte M. H. Beath. 

THE BOY AND THE BOAT 

IT WAS getting late in the fall of 1607 and the 
beeches and oaks on the slopes running down to 

the Kennebec — or Sagadahoc as it was then 
called — had yellowed and reddened in the frosty 
nights and mellow sunny days of autumn while the 
pines, standing tall and straight, were darkening and 
beginning to sing their deeper notes. 

Here the ^^Popham colony" had landed from 
their two ships ^^The Gift of God" and the '^Mary 
and John," and had almost immediately begun 
building the cabins and general storehouse of their 
town. They had named the settlement ^*St. 
George," and already, in imagination, saw it grow- 
ing into the metropolis of this western world. 

And now, under the eye of their Governor, Mr. 
George Popham, and the supervision of Captain 



64 MAINE, MY STATE 

Ealeigli Gilbert, navigator and shipbuilder, a crew 
of men were to build a small vessel to add to their 
fleet. For weeks a company of the men had been 
getting out lumber suitable for the timbers and 
planks of the pinnace. She was designed to be of 
only twenty-eight or thirty tons burden and was, 
after the fashion of the day, to be of broad beam, 
rounded bow and high stern — decked over for the 
most part — and with comfortable quarters and 
cargo room. Still she was styled a pinnace because 
of her small dimensions and the fact that she might 
be propelled by oars should need arise. 

Captain Gilbert, who had planned the new craft, 
was a son of Sir Humphrey Gilbert. "We all know 
how Sir Humphrey, more than twenty years earlier 
than this, had tried to plant a colony in Newfound- 
land and on his return vo3^age had gone down with 
all on board in the ^ ^ Squirrel. ' ^ Now his son had 
come out to be Admiral of the fleet, leaving his home 
and business in Pl^^mouth, England, at the urgent 
request of Lord Popham and other members of the 
Plymouth Company. With him he had brought his 
orphaned nephew, Humphrey, a boy of fifteen. 
Humphrey Gilbert's father had been a quiet and 
studious young man, but Humphrey himself was 
boyishly in love with the stir and bustle and adven- 
ture of a sailor's life. He never tired of hearing of 
the voyages of his grandfather. Sir Humphrey, of 
his uncle. Captain Gilbert, and most of all of his 
grandfather's gallant half-brother. Sir Walter 
Ealeigh, courtier, colonizer and officer in the navy 
sent against the Spanish Armada. 

He begged and implored so hard to be included in 
the ship 's company of the ' ^ Mary and John ' ' that he 



THE BOY AND THE BOAT 



65 



won his -ancle's reluctant consent. By the time 
America was sighted the boy had become robnst and 
stnrdy. Ere long he was the busiest member of the 
newly-planted colony, and the life and spirit of the 
otherwise sober and staid company. Even Gov. 
Popham loved the manly, bright-faced youth, who 
was already taking a man's part in all the labors of 
the settlement. 

Any boy can imagine with what interest young 
Humphrey watched the preparation of material for 
the boat, and with what eagerness he lent his aid in 




The Virginia on the Stocks at Popham Colony 

many ways. And today the keel was to be laid on 
the bank of the Sagadahoc, right before the little 
group of houses which formed the new town. 

The short autumn days were full of the business 
of building this ship, as well as of completing the 
storehouse and dwellings. Hammer and maul 
resounded, fires were daily built for steaming the 
planks and ribs to be bent in the fashion required for 
the hull of the new ship. Stores of iron work, ropes 



66 • MAINE, MY STATE 

and other fittings and finally the canvas for the sails, 
all brought from England for this purpose, were 
assembled and in readiness for use on the new craft. 

Ere the snows of winter came — that long winter 
which was to prove the last for so many of the com- 
pany — the ship was built, standing ready for the 
running rigging and the sails which would be bent 
in the spring. 

The crew had builded staunchly and well — and, 
all unconsciously, they had performed a labor the 
memory of which would not die. They had inaugu- 
rated a great industry, having built the first vessel 
constructed by English hands in all America — and 
launched the first ship into the Kennebec where in 
the centuries to follow shipbuilding would be a lead- 
ing occupation. 

What should the new boat be christened? 
Gravely the old governor and Captain Gilbert con- 
sulted over this, piously they bethought them of 
^'Hope," ^^ Charity," ^^Deliverance," and ^'Divine 
Providence" as suitable; but young Humphrey Gil- 
bert insisted that she be named the ^'Virginia," not 
as a compliment to the English company at home or 
to the province, but for the now dead Virgin Queen, 
Elizabeth. 

But now I must take you back to England and tell 
3^ou how, seven or eight years before, when but a 
very little boy, Humphrey had seen Queen Eliza- 
beth, and why he so much wished that the new boat 
should be named for her. From his home town of 
Plymouth, he had gone up to London with his uncle. 
Captain Raleigh Gilbert. To him it was a wonder- 
ful visit. He had seen London Bridge, the Tower, 
and the grand city houses with their overhanging 



THE BOY AND THE BOAT 67 

upper stories and balconies almost meeting over the 
narrow, mnddy and nnpaved streets. He had 
watched the lords and ladies of the conrt riding out 
in their carriages. He had seen Admiral Howard, 
who had commanded Elizabeth 's fleet when it pnt to 
ront the great Spanish Armada. He had seen his 
father's nncle, Sir Walter Ealeigh, riding amid a 
gay company of courtiers and, best of all, he had 
seen Elizabeth herself! In her state carriage, with 
her ladies about her, powdered and painted, and with 
her wig finely curled, she had looked so grand and 
regal to the little fellow that in all his long years of 
after life he was never to forget her, or cease to 
remember her as a heroine. 

As he stood in the muddy street amid the bowing 
and applauding crowd, the queen's carriage passed 
so close that he might have touched it, and just then 
she glanced down to see the bright-haired little boy 
so gallantly saluting her. She had leaned forward 
and smiled upon him — a really sweet and womanly 
smile, such as perhaps had rarely come to the 
woman's lips in all her long, stormy years. And 
that smile won a courtier forever. 

Now the old queen had been dead these four 
years, and Scottish James reigned in her stead. The 
lad 's uncle. Sir Walter, was a prisoner in the Tower, 
because King James suspected him of sharing in a 
plot to place Lady Arabella Stuart on the throne. 
England was far across the ocean. But Humphrey 
still remembered and admired the great Virgin 
Queen and would name the new boat for her. So the 
*^ Virginia of Sagadahoc" she was christened, and 
was to start out in early spring to coast along the 



68 MAINE, MY STATE 

shores, gathering furs from the Indians in exchange 
for knives and trinkets. 

The winter closed in, long and severe, and their 
loneliness depressed the colonists. As the cold 
increased, sickness appeared among them and pres- 
ently the first death. In the days and weeks fol- 
lowing, many were laid in graves in this far, strange 
land. Early in February, Gov. Popham sickened 
and died and the stoutest hearts wavered. Courage 
ebbed and homesickness crept into the hearts of 
many. 

Spring, coming late, found only half of the orig- 
inal company of one hundred twenty men ready for 
duty, while even among these some thought only of 
escape from this cruel, new land. 

But the Virginia was fitted out and, with a com- 
pany of five, set out on a trading trip westward 
along the coast. You may be sure that young 
Humphrey Gilbert made one of her crew, and so 
expert did he become in seamanship and so well had 
he spent his winter evenings in the study of naviga- 
tion, that he seemed already qualified to take the 
Virginia on an ocean voyage, even without the pres- 
ence of Master Bing, who commanded her, and whose 
mate Humphrey soon became. 

The Virginia was on a third trip to Casco to com- 
plete the load of the * ^ Mary and John, ' ' when a ship 
just out from England brought urgent summons to 
Capt. Gilbert to return home and attend to business 
left uncared for by the death of his partner in 
Plymouth. 

He prepared to sail at once in the waiting ^ ' Mary 
and John,'' and when he made known his resolve, 
more than half the colonists decided to sail with him. 



THE BOY AND THE BOAT 



G9 



About forty of the hardier spirits — mostly fisher- 
men and traders — remained to scatter among the 
fishermen at Pemaquid and Monhegan, intending 
also to return home in the autumn in the ^^Gift of 
God.^' 

When the Virginia, Master Bing, Avith his four 
companions and a load of peltries, returned to St. 




Popham Fort and Trading Post 



George, he found the place practically deserted— 
and it soon became wholly so. But this adventur- 
ous life had so charmed young Gilbert that he 
rejoiced in his freedom and this chance to spend 
another season in America. With the beautiful May 
weather, the place had again become a paradise, and 
the English fishing vessels, returning for the season, 



70 MAINE, MY STATE 

brought companionship and chance news from over 
seas. 

On one of the trips of the Virginia to the Piscat- 
aqua, Humphrey experienced an adventure which 
opened his eyes to an ever-lurking danger to all Eng- 
lishmen. He had traded successfully with a little 
party of savages — seemingly very friendly — and was 
following them as they bore their load through the 
forest. Though the day was foggy and the sun 
obscured, Humphrey instinctively felt that their 
direction had been changed and that they were no 
longer moving toward the shore. Slipping his 
pocket compass out, he was horrified to find that 
they were heading northwest, directly into the dense 
forest and away from his floating home, the Vir- 
ginia! Perhaps for a mile or more his guides had 
been leading him astray — doubtless meaning to steal 
his furs and kidnap him. What should he do! To 
show fear or distrust might bring the savages upon 
him at once. 

Thunder had been muttering through the fog, 
and now a sharp flash of lightning was instantly fol- 
lowed by a heavy peal. Humphrey halted and the 
savages gathered sternly about. He was sur- 
rounded and flight was hopeless. So, holding his 
compass before them, he told them how it directed 
him. to turn back from the death to which the arrow 
pointed — told them that the voice of the thunder 
threatened death if they did not obey him. The}' 
knew the power of the thunderbolt; but this little 
box which told even the child of the white man all 
their deceit and by which he could perhaps com- 
mand the lightning, daunted them! 



THE BOY AND TtLE BOAT 71 

Sternly Humphrey turned them back. With a 
grunt from this one and that, they accompanied him 
in the direction of the shore. Soon, too, he heard his 
companions shouting his name in alarm at his pro- 
longed absence in the tempest. Humphrey had 
learned his lesson and never again went into the 
woods with the savages. 

The autumn proving warm, and the winter as 
mild as the previous one had been severe, the ships 
remained in America and the Virginia made many 
trips along the coast, even sailing south to the 
Jamestown settlement with salted cod. 

When spring came again, — the spring of 1609, 
the ^'Gift of God" and the little '* Virginia," laden 
with valuable cargoes of furs and sassafras root, set 
sail for Plymouth, England. 

One more adventure was to be Humphrey's. 
After some days, a storm arose during which the 
"Gift of God" was disabled by the breaking of her 
topmast and the loss of some sails. This compelled 
her to heave to, while repairing. The "Virginia" 
sailed on, expecting the larger ship to overtake her. 
But she was soon alone upon the ocean and. Master 
Bing being helpless in his berth from an injury, 
Plumphrey assumed all his duties of navigating the 
ship and directing her crew. So well did he shape 
his course and so true were his calculations, that they 
first sighted old England at Land's End and, with- 
out a pause, slipped gaily into Plymouth harbor on 
a Mav morning, full five days before the arrival of 
the "Gift of G^od." 

You can imagine the joy with which Captain Gil- 
bert greeted his young nephew and his pride in the 
boy 's courage and ability. The little pinnace almost 



72 MAINE; MY STATE 

immediately set sail again for the land of her birth, 
this time in the fleet of Gates and Somers, with men 
for the Jamestown settlement. For more than 
twenty years she ran between England and Virginia, 
until a captain, older but less apt than Humphrey 
Gilbert, lost his reckoning and wrecked her on the 
Irish coast, where she went down with a full cargo 
of American tobacco. 

Humphrey never saw America again; but after 
finishing his education, became his uncle's partner, 
and a wealthy merchant and ship-owner of Ply- 
mouth. Even as an old man, he was still fond of 
telling his grandson, not of any of the great ships he 
had sent out, or of the rich cargoes they had brought 
home, but of his first little ship, the ^'Virginia of 
Sagadahoc.'' — Mary Dunbar Devereux. 



THE PILGRIM FATHERS ON THE KENNEBEC 

WHEN the Pilgrim Fathers made up their 
minds to start on that wonderful voyage in 
the Mayflower, across the stormy ocean, in 
order that they might find in the wilderness *^ free- 
dom to worship God," they had to borrow money 
for the journey. 

All the things required for founding a colony in 
the new world meant quite a large sum, even though 
the Pilgrims were as economical as it was possible 
to be. After trying a long time they succeeded in 
finding some merchants in London who were willing 
to let them have what they needed on the condition 
that the Pilgrims for seven years should give the 
merchants a one-half share of all profits they might 



THE PILGRIM FATHERS ON THE KENNEBEC 73 

get in trade or by fishing or farming in the new 
country. So the Pilgrim Fathers and the London 
Merchants signed a partnership ; a grant of land was 
obtained for the new colony from one of the great 
land companies which under the King controlled the 
western world; and in September, 1620, the May- 
flower at last put to sea for her voyage across the 
Atlantic. 

Everyone knows the sufferings of the little col- 
ony at Plymouth during that first cruel winter on the 
bleak New England shore. Far from being able to 
send any profits back to England in this spring of 
1621, they had to borrow more money. 

The Pilgrims did not all stay quietly in Ply- 
mouth, clearing their farms and raising their corn. 
They had brought over in the Mayflower a shallop, 
a small sail-boat such as would now be called a sloop. 
It had been stowed away in parts in the ship, and 
was put together by the ship's carpenter after they 
landed. Several years later, a ship carpenter, who 
had joined the colony, made them two good and 
strong shallops. In these the more venturous of the 
young men sailed up and down the coast, and 
worked up some trade with the Indians at different 
points. 

One of these sailing trips was especially men- 
tioned by Governor Bradford, in his history of the 
colony, because it led to important events. 

It was in the fall of 1625, after their first abun- 
dant harvest, that haK a dozen of the ^^old stand- 
ards, ' * as Governor Bradford calls them, loaded one 
of the two new shallops with corn for an expedition 
up the coast. They had laid a little deck over part 
of the boat to keep the corn dry, but the men had no 



74 MAlNEl, MY STATIC 

shelter from any storms tliat might come. Edward 
Winslow, one of the finest of the Pilgrim men, after- 
wards Governor of the colony, was skipper. 

Northward and eastward they sailed np along 
the shore, by Seguin Island, which had no light- 
honse then, and across Merry-meeting Bay, and 
entered a fine large river, called Kennebec. They 
sailed by a large island upon which was an Indian 
village, the home of an Indian sachem. They kept 
on sailing up the river between hills heavily wooded 
with pine and fringed with birches at the water's 
edge and did not stop until they came to the head of 
the tide, where the swift river current met and over- 
came the movement from the ocean. 

Here, just below the first rapids, they found an 
Indian village, and were received in a most friendly 
manner. They unloaded the corn from their shal- 
lop, and the Indians brought beaver skins and other 
furs from the wigwams and traded the pelts for the 
corn. When the shallop came again into Plymouth 
Harbor, she carried seven hundred pounds of beaver 
fur, which the Pilgrims were happy to send to Eng- 
land by the next ship that sailed. 

The Pilgrims were now having a hard time with 
their creditors, the London Merchants, who heaped 
reproaches upon them for their delay in paying their 
debts. They were now sending to England by every 
returning boat what little they w^ere able to procure, 
a few clipboards they had made, or some furs they 
had taken in trade, and every now and then one of 
their number would go to London to make explana- 
tions and excuses, and to borrow a little more money 
if he could to purchase things to carry home. The 
whole of their borrowings made a large amount for 



THE PILGRIM FATHERS ON THE KENNEBEC 75 

a handful of settlers in the wilderness, toiling hard 
to feed and clothe their growing families, to send 
over the sea in a few years. No wonder the thoughts 
of Edward Winslow and the rest of the ''old 
standards" went often to the Indian village at the 
head of the tide on the Kennebec, and to the splendid 
furs that the Indian hunters brought down every 
year from the country up the river. 

When Isaac Allerton went to England the second 
time, he obtained from the great land company 
which held all of New England, a grant or patent of 
the land upon which Plymouth Colony was settled, 
and also of a large tract of land lying on both sides 
of the Kennebec River, which the Pilgrims were 
anxious to control for the purpose of trading in furs 
with the Indians. The former patents had run to 
some one in England. This time the grant was made 
to William Bradford and a few men associated with 
him, as the responsible men of the colony. These 
men became, as it were, trustees for the colony until 
its debts should be paid. By agreement between 
themselves and the colony they were to control all 
its trade and to have the use of all boats until their 
trust was fulfilled. 

So the Pilgrims of Plymouth became the owners 
of a large part of the Kennebec valley, the land upon 
which now stand some of the beautiful cities and 
villages of central Maine. What was much more 
important to them, they were able to control the val- 
uable fur trade of the whole region, and to keep it 
from the fishing fleets which came every year from 
Europe to the mouth of the river. The patent in its 
final form was received in 1629, but a year before 
that the Plymouth men had built a trading-house, a 



76 MAINE, MY STATE 

sort of combination of fort and store-house, upon tlie 
east bank of the Kennebec, just below the first 
rapids, and close to the Indian village where they 
had traded on their earlier trip. The Indian name 
of the place was Koussinoc. 

As they had no boat big enough to be used in the 
Kennebec trade, and as the ship carpenter who had 
built the two shallops was dead, the house carpenter 
of the colony did his best to meet the situation. He 
selected one of the biggest shallops, sawed it in the 
middle, lengthened it five or six feet, strengthened it 
with timbers, and laid a deck over it. The result 
was a serviceable vessel, which was used for seven 
years on the Maine coast and up the Kennebec. 

The Indians who lived neighbor to the Pilgrim 
trading-post in their little village of about five hun- 
dred inhabitants are sometimes called the Kennebec 
and sometimes the Canibas Indians, and were part of 
the great Abenaki nation of western Maine. They 
were a gentle people, and were on friendly terms 
with their neighbors from Plymouth. They lived 
in wigwams made by planting poles in a circle, join- 
ing them in the centre, and covering them with large 
sheets of bark. Their fire was in the middle, on the 
ground, and they laid rush mats on the earth to sit or 
lie upon. They dressed in skins or in red or blue 
blanket garments, and wore deerskin moccasins. In 
the winter they wore snow-shoes, and could travel 
long distances over the level snow of the river. 

In spring and summer they fished for sTiad, ale- 
wives and salmon, at the rapids, gathered berries in 
the woods, or went dow^n to the mouth of the river to 
fish and trade. In fall and winter they traveled up 
river, and hunted the forest and trapped along the 



THE PILGRIM FATHERS ON THE KENNEBEC 77 

many streams tliat then, as now, bounded down from 
the hills to leap into the Kennebec. 

Often they went as far as the great lake of the 
Moose, around whose shores they found beaver col- 
onies in large numbers. "When they returned to 
their village in the spring, they brought deer and 
moose skins, great black bear skins, fox skins, mar- 
tin and otter skins, but by far the most valuable and 
numerous were the beaver skins. All these they 
were glad to exchange with the Pilgrims at the trad- 
ing-house for corn which had come from Plymouth; 
for while the Indians raised some corn in their little 
clearings, they were too devoted to their hunting to 
raise as much as they needed. 

But the Pilgrims kept on hand various other 
articles for trade. Governor Bradford mentions 
that they had coats, shirts, rugs, blankets, biscuit, 
pease and prunes. They had also hatchets and 
knives and English beads. Some of these things 
they imported from England; but some they bought 
from the fishing ships on the coast, paying for them 
with corn or with beaver. Once they purchased one 
half of the stock of a trading store on Monhegan 
Island, including the cargo of a French ship that had 
been wrecked, in which, among other things, were 
some Biscay rugs. This lot of goods cost them £500. 

But the Indians were most ready to sell their furs 
for wampum, which the Pilgrims were able to get 
from the Indians of southern New England, the Nar- 
ragansetts and Pequots. This wampum consisted of 
white and purple beads made out of parts of shells 
clipped into small, round pieces, ground and pol- 
ished, and then pierced so as to be strung. These 
beads were very ornamental, and were prized for 



78 MAINE, MY STATE 

necklaces and bracelets, and for the embroidery and 
fringe of belts. The chief value of wampum, how- 
ever, came from the fact that it was used for cur- 
rency by the Indians in trading with one another. 
The Pilgrims got hold of a large quantity of wam- 
pum, and offered it to the Kennebec Indians in pay- 
ment for beaver. It was nearly two years before 
the northern Indians, to whom it was a novelty, were 
willing to receive wampum, but when they had once 
done so, the}^ were eager to get all they could, and 
this convenient currency made them more pros- 
perous. 

It was natural that the young men of Plymouth 
should have charge of the trading-post. John How- 
land, the young man who was thrown overboard 
from the Mayflower in mid-ocean by a sail, and was 
saved by catching hold of the topsail halyards and 
being dragged back into the ship with a boat-hook, 
seems to have had the management of the post for a 
time. It must have been a hard experience for him 
to spend the long months of the winter at Koussinoc, 
alone, in those first years, or with just one or two 
companions, in order to have the first chance with 
the Indians when they brought the season ^s trophies 
down the river in the spring. We can imagine that 
they made their log camp as comfortable as possi- 
ble, with a big fireplace at one end, made of stones 
from the bed of the river, a black bearskin in front of 
it, and the walls hung with furs and bright blankets. 

But when the soft, warm days of spring came and 
the ice wdnt out of the Kennebec, John Rowland's 
eyes must have turned often down stream, looking 
for the shallop from Plymouth with one of his friends 
at the helm. It might be John Alden, the handsome 



THE PILGRIM FATHERS ON THE KENNEBEC 79 

young cooper who married Priscilla and became one 
of the colony's leading men, or it might be Captain 
Stahdish, who didn't get Priscilla; for both these 
men came at different times to the trading-house at 
Konssinoc. Governor Winslow was also a frequent 
visitor, and I feel quite sure that Governor Bradford 
came there, as well as most of the younger men of 
the colony. 

Nowhere else in New England was there such a 
profitable trade in furs as at Konssinoc. In five 
years the Pilgrims shipped to England 12,500 
230unds of beaver, besides other furs. Beaver was 
so abundant that it came to be used as a sort of cur- 
rency in Maine. People would say, such a thing is 
worth so many beaver skins, and payment would be 
made in them for work done or for goods purchased. 

So the Pilgrims prospered on the Kennebec. 
They paid in full the debt of the colony to the Lon- 
don Merchants and all its other debts. After about 
a dozen years, Governor Bradford and his associ- 
ates, like the honest men that they were, deeded the 
land occupied by the Plymouth colony and the Ken- 
nebec tract as well, to the freemen of New Plymouth. 
But the same men who had been managing the trad- 
ing-post at Konssinoc kept on doing so, leasing the 
trading privilege from year to year. For more than 
thirty years trade was carried on b}^ Plymouth men 
at Konssinoc on the Kennebec to the great profit of 
the colony. Then came hard times in the fur trade. 
The Indians learned something about the value of 
their furs, and that a handful of corn or a string of 
shell beads was not enough for them. Other traders 
competed with the Pilgrims, who finally got tired of 
carrying on at so great a distance from home a busi- 



80 MAINE, MY STATE 

ness tliat had become unprofitable. So, in 1661, the 
colony of New Plymoutli sold its tract of Kennebec 
land to certain men of Massachusetts Bay Colony. 

This finishes the story of the Pilgrim Fathers on 
the Kennebec. The new owners did not carry on 
the trading-post and its buildings fell into decay. 
Indian wars arose, cruel and long; and for well-nigh 
a century the Kennebec valley was deserted by white 
men. The Indian village also was abandoned, and 
the forest grew over the ground where the Indian 
and the Pilgrim had lived as neighbors and traded 
with each other. For many years the spot was 
marked, as one looked upon it from the river, by the 
lower tree growth on the shore. Then, as the trees 
grew bigger and higher, the last trace of the Pil- 
grims vanished. Nothing was left to tell the story 
of how on these shores had walked the famous men 
of Plymouth, Winslow and Standish, Alden and 
Bradford, who here worked out the salvation and 
built up the prosperity of their colony. But I think 
the more ancient pines and birches, which remem- 
bered the older days, sometimes whispered to one 
another tales of the Indian village and the trading- 
house, and of Indian mothers crooning lullabies to 
their babies while the braves dickered in beaver and 
wampum with the white-faced strangers. 

•It came to pass after very nearly a hundred 
years, when the Indian wars were about over, that 
the descendants of the purchasers of the land on the 
Kennebec formed a company, and induced settlers to 
come up the river, and to clear farms and make 
homes upon its banks. A fort was built on the spot 
where the old Plymouth trading-house had stood, 
and in the course of years a beautiful village grew 



THE TREASURE SHIP 81 

lip at that place. The capital city of the State of 
Maine stands on land that the Pilgrim Fathers once 
owned, and covers the very ground where for so 
long a time they carried on a successful trade, and 
in that way saved from ruin their colony of New 
Plymouth. 

— Louise H. Cohiirn. 



THE TREASURE SHIP 

THE BAYS of Monseag and Sheepscot form a 
little peninsula on which the town of Wool- 
wich is situated. This strip of land was 
bought by the first white settlers for a hogshead of 
corn and thirty pumpkins. It was here some three 
hundred years ago that James Phips and his good 
wife built their pioneer home. 

Dame Phips must have felt at times like the old 
woman in Mother Goose who had so many children 
she didn 't know what to do, for her brood numbered 
twenty-six, all of them boys but three. 

William was one of the youngest. His father 
died when he was a mere child, and on the mother 
the family cares must have weighed heavily. Prob- 
ably she had little time to dream and we doubt if 
even in wildest fancy she could have imagined the 
career which awaited one of her boys. There was 
nothing about William to single him out from the 
others for special favor. Yet she lived to see him 
honored by kings and princes, made royal governor 
of Massachusetts, and the hero of one of the most 
romantic adventures ever recorded in history. 



82 MAINE, MY STATE 

William was an active, restless boy, ever fond of 
feats of daring. As the settlers in those days lived 
in constant fear of the Indians, William's courage 
and fearlessness were often put to the test in fight- 
ing back the tomahawk. Like all boys he loved to 
hunt and fish, and living so near the Kennebec 
Eiver, he met many a talkative old *^salt" whose 
sea tales made the boy impatient for a life of peril- 
ous adventure. 

While tending the sheep, for this was his part of 
the family work, he would imagine himself a cap- 
tain, sailing the broad seas and many was the con- 
flict he fought in imagination with pirates. 

William from early childhood always insisted to 
his playmates that he would not remain long at 
home, that the big world was calling him. At the 
age of 18 years, he told his mother that he was done 
with acting as shepherd to the flocks. He was going 
to be a sea captain, he said. So he was apprenticed 
to one of the shipbuilders of the town and spent the 
next four years learning this trade. Then, in spite 
of his mother's tears and his brothers' entreaties, 
he set forth for Boston. There had been no time for 
schooling at home and not till he reached Boston did 
he have opportunity to learn to read and write. 

A year after reaching Boston he wooed and won 
a fair widow, Mary Hall by name, who also was born 
in Maine, near Saco. She had a fair fortune for 
those days and this brought to William Phips more 
opportunities. 

His first big undertaking was to build a ship. 
He secured the contract from persons in Boston and 
returned to Woolwich to do the work. The ship 
grew fast under his hands and finally he was ready 



THE TREASURE SHIP 83 

for a lading of lumber. Just as all seemed to pros- 
per him, the Indian war whoop was heard and a 
murderous assault was made on the little settlement. 
Young' Phips, forgetting his own fortune, offered his 
ship as a refuge to his people and furthermore 
agreed to take them to Boston free of charge. 

In spite of this set-back to his fortunes by the 
loss of the profit from his lumber, Phips still was 
firm in his belief that a great future awaited him. 
^'I shall yet be the captain of a king's ship and I 
shall have command of better men than I now 
account myself and I shall build for you a fair brick 
house in the Green Lane of North Boston," he used 
to tell his wife. 

At that time, Spain was winning fortunes from 
the West Indies and South America, and all Europe 
and New England were fired with these stories. 
Vessels loaded with silver and gold and precious 
stones were often captured by daring pirates. 
These stories young Phips heard as he went among 
the sailors in the shipyards. 

One day came the story of the wreck of one of 
these treasure ships off the Bahamas and this excited 
wild hopes in Phips' heart. Why not find the 
sunken wreck and recover the treasure? 

So one fair day he sailed thither. Little success 
rewarded him, except that he was furnished an 
opportunity to journey to England. Before he left 
the West Indies, he had heard from an old ship cap- 
tain of another sunken Spanish wreck wherein was 
lost a mighty treasure. 

In due season young Phips arrived in England. 
He was a stranger in a strange land with only his 
wits to help him. Yet he won his way to the King, 



84 



MAINE, MY STATE 



told liim his dream of recovering the sunken treasure 
and actually made King Charles II. take stock in the 
yarn, and, more than that, the King promised to give 
the young adventurer a chance to prove his mettle. 
It was in the year 1683 that Phips again set 
forth — this time in a King's ship — you remember his 
prophecy to his wife, ^^I shall yet be captain of a 




Sir William Phips 

King's ship." The Algier Rose was a frigate of 
eighteen guns and ninety-five men. 

To relate all the dangers through which Phips 
passed while year after year first one thing and then 
another delayed the success of his undertaking, is 
too long a story. There were many hardships, and, 
growing weary of the monotonous days, the crew 



Ttti: TREASURE SHIP 85 

became restless. Tliey thought a treasure more 
easily won by turning pirates. So they plotted and 
schemed and one day, deeming the time favorable, 
with drawn swords in their hands, they suddenly 
approached the captain on the quarterdeck and com- 
manded him to join with them in running away with 
the King's ship to drive a trade of piracy. Capt. 
Phips, although he did not have so much as an ox 
goad or a jaw bone in his hands, — for those were the 
common weapons of those days, — rushed upon the 
men and, with the blows of his bare hands, felled 
some and quelled all the rest. 

For a time all went well, but the discontent soon 
broke out again in a more serious mutiny. The ship 
was at anchor near an uninhabited island to 
undergo repairs. The crew, wiiile in the Avoods on 
shore leave, plotted to seize the ship. If the captain 
resisted, he was to be put ashore with those of the 
crew who proved faithful to him. The mutineers 
would then sail away and turn pirates. 

The ship 's carpenter, through a pretense of sud- 
den illness, succeeded in warning the Captain of the 
danger and when the crew returned to the ship that 
night, they found their way blocked by a cannon 
which threatened them should they attempt to go 
aboard. Capt. Phips called to them that he knew 
their foul plans and that it was he who proposed to 
sail away and leave them to starve. The mutineers 
suddenly became very penitent. Yielding at last to 
their entreaties, Capt. Phips took them aboard the 
ship but lost no time in sailing for Jamaica, where 
he discharged the men he had learned to distrust 
and secured a new crew. 



S6 Maine, my state 

All this had taken two years time. The Algier 
Eose badly needed repairs, so Capt. Pliips decided 
to return to England and make a new start. 

James II. was now King of England and he was 
none too secure on his throne. Invasion of his 
kingdom was threatened and it was necessary to 
have all his frigates at home, so he told Capt. Phips 
that no ship could be spared for treasure hunting. 
The man from Maine was not one bit discouraged. 
He soon found a powerful friend in the Duke of 
Albermarle, a nobleman of great wealth, who inter- 
ested his friends in the adventure and together they 
furnished the money for a second ship. 

Before many months had passed, Capt. Phips 
was again at Port de la Plata in Hispaniola, and the 
treasure hunt began anew. Every morning Capt. 
Phips would send his sailors out in their small boats 
to skirt the nearby shoals and reefs to search for 
some sign of the sunken Spanish galleon. A bit of 
floating wood or seaweed would be carefully exam- 
ined and eager eyes would search the waters 
beneath. One day a sailor spied a bit of seaweed 
growing out of what looked to be a crevice of a rock. 
An Indian diver was sent down. In bringing up the 
seaweed, the diver told a strange story. He said he 
had seen a number of great guns where he found the 
seaweed. The men sent him down again and this 
time he brought up a great lump of some heavy sub- 
stance. The sailors washed off the lime and barna- 
cles and to their astonishment, it proved to be a bar 
of silver, — a sow they called it, worth perhaps some 
300 pounds. Then they knew that they had found 
the long lost wreck. 



THE^TREASUREi SHIP 87 

Marking the spot with a buoy, they hurried back 
to the ship. The men agreed at first to report no 
success to Capt. Phips, as usual. They gathered 
around the table for evening meal and as they talked 
of the uselessness of continuing the search, Capt. 
Phips showed much spirit and declared that he 
would still wait patiently the will of God. Then the 
sailors showed him the bar of silver. 

When he realized what it was and what it meant, 
Capt. Phips said, ^'Thanks be to God, we are made." 

The days that followed were full of feverish 
excitement. There seemed no end to the treasure. 
In a little while they had brought up 32 tons of sil- 
ver. There were huge junks of what looked to be 
limestone. These the men broke open with iron 
tools and whole bushels of rusty pieces of Spanish 
money would fall from the broken mass. Besides 
this there was incredible treasure in gold and pearls 
and jewels. Thus did they fish until, their provis- 
ions failing, it was time to be off. 

Seeing all this pile of wealth, the sailors felt that 
they were not going to get their just share, and they 
became morose and threatening. Capt. Phips 
assured them that they should be treated fairly even 
if he had to divide his part with them, and he kept 
his word. 

Capt. Phips arrived safely in London in 1687 
with his precious cargo to the value of £300,000 or 
$1,500,000 in our money. The King was so elated 
with the success of the adventure that he conferred 
forthwith upon Capt. Phips the honor of Knight- 
hood, the first native-born American to receive this 
distinction. The Duke of Albermarle, who saw vast 
wealth added to his estates, sent to Lady Phips a 



88 MAINE, MY STATE 

golden cup worth £1,000 ($5,000). PMps' share in 
the treasure was less than £16,000 ($80,000). 

Possessed of abundant wealth, the time was now 
ripe for Sir William to return to New England and 
to build ^'the fair brick house in Green Lane, North 
Boston.'' In due time the house was finished and 
it was one of the show places of the town. The walls 
were as thick as those of a fortress and it became the 
favorite gathering place for fashionable Boston. 

One of Sir William's first public acts on his 
return home was to give a splendid feast to the ship 
carpenters of Boston. He was not ashamed of his 
lowly origin or of the fact that he had made his own 
way in the world. He had the true American spirit 
of respect for honest toil. 

Honors came thick and fast to Sir W^illiam. He 
added to his renown by the capture of Port Royal 
and all Acadia from the French and although he 
subsequently led an unsuccessful expedition against 
Quebec, he was little blamed for its collapse. 

In due time Sir William became Governor of 
Massachusetts which then included Maine and soon 
after he built the fine fort at Pemaquid, Fort Wil- 
liam Henry, for he knew the great need of some 
strong defense against the Indians, having as a boy 
experienced the horrors of Indian assaults. 

Gov. Phips often made trips along the Maine 
coast inspecting its defenses. When sailing in sight 
of the Kennebec River, he would call his young 
sailors and soldiers upon deck and speak to them in 
this fashion: ^^ Young men, it was upon that hill that 
I kept sheep a few years ago; and since Almighty 
God has brought me to something, do 3^ou learn to 
fear God and be honest and mind your own busi- 



THE TREASURE SHIP 



89 



ness and follow no bad courses, and you don't know 
wliat may come to you.'' 

Little did Sir William think at that time that his 
memor}^ would be perpetuated on this coast in the 
name of a township not far from his birthplace. It 




amwii.uAMPHiPi-'S. 






The King's Invitation to Funeral of Sir William Phips 
Received by New England Relatives 

is said that an old Phipsburg family holds as its 
greatest treasure one of the original invitations to 
Sir William's funeral, issued by the King of Eng- 
land. 

For it was on a visit to England that Sir William 
died on Feb. 18th, 1695, having been stricken with a 



90 MAINE, MY STATE 

malignant fever. His body lies buried in the little 
church of St. Mary Woolnoth in London. Not until 
May 5th did the news of his passing reach Boston 
and ^'the evening guns" were fired to announce the 
sad tidings to his people. 

— Anna Ladd Dingley. 



WHEN JEAN VINCENT FOLLOWED 
THE TRAIL 

Chapter I 

MANY years ago in the year 1652, a little boy 
was born in. Oleron, France. His mother 
died when he was less than two years old. 
His father was a rich and powerful baron of the 
land. He owned many houses scattered through the 
provinces near the P^^renees Mountains. He was 
not an unkind father, but he was always too busy to 
spend any time with his children, so he left them 
to the care of servants, nurses and the Jesuit Priests. 
When this boy was very little, he trotted about 
the castle after his older sister and watched the 
w^omen em^broider and weave by hand yards and 
yards of glistening silk made from the worms that 
fed on the mulberry trees which grew around the 
castle grounds. As he grew to be older, that was 
too tame a life for him, so with his older brother, he 
rode on his spirited little pony, a falcon on his wrist 
and half a dozen dogs barking at his heels. He even 
followed the hounds and saw them kill the wild boar, 
whose fierce tusks gored the dogs as they pulled him 
down. In the evening, when the lords and barons 
joined his father at supper, he was allowed to remain 



WHEN JEAN Vincent"; FOLLOWED the trail 



91 



and toss off liis glass of wine and give his toast to 
the fair ladies present, as if he were grown up. 

Once his father took him to Paris, where reigned 
one of the most powerful monarchs of all Europe, 




Jean Vincent (The Baron Castine) in Youth 

King Louis XIV. Jean Vincent, for that w^as the 
little boy's name, was dressed in his best doublet or 
jacket of blue velvet, slashed on the sleeves, with 
white satin puffs showing through the slashes. His 
trousers were velvet, too, and he wore white silk 



^2 MAINE, MY STATIC 

stockings and pointed leather shoes witli gold 
buckles. His hat was of felt with a long, white 
ostrich feather, fastened on with another buckle, 
also of gold, while lace ruffles hung over his hands, — 
not much of a costume for a boy to wear to climb a 
tree! 0, yes, he wore a long pointed knife called a 
dagger or poinard, such as a noble wore to kill if he 
were attacked by thieves. Often he used it to thrust 
or prick a servant who did not move quickly enough 
to carry out his orders. 

The King liked the looks of Jean Vincent and 
told his father that when the boy was twelve, he 
should be made one of the gentlemen of the court. 

The next year the boy's father died. His older 
brother became the baron, taking, as was the custom, 
all the lands and houses. Then the sister married 
and most of the gold and jewels went for her mar- 
riage dot. There seemed nothing left for Jean Vm- 
cent but to go up to the Court at Versailles and 
remind his Majesty, King Louis, of his promise. 
When he arrived at Court, Louis XIV. readily agreed 
to take him into his service, saying, *' Little Jean, I 
will soon give you a chance to become a great war- 
rior in our next war with England.'' 

An ancient court was a bad place for a lad of 
twelve, for many reasons. First, in the King's 
household lived so many noble gentlemen that there 
was not enough work for half of them. They spent 
their time playing dice, drinking, teaching cocks to 
light, and ferrets to catch rats, and in doing even 
worse things. Jean grew very tired of it. He 
wanted leather buskins and jerkins and a good stout 
helmet on his head. 



WHEN JEAN VINCENT FOLLOWED THE TRAIL 93 

The French were having trouble with their colo- 
nies in Acadia, the new world over the big ocean. 
Louis and his great Cardinal decided to send one 
of the King's crack regiments over seas to settle all 
difficulties. So the Carignan Salieres were shipped 
to Quebec. Jean Vincent, though only fourteen, 
belonged to that regiment. It was a beastly trip 
f:i cross the ocean and even the noblemen were 
crowded like cattle in the small cabins of the vessels 
transporting them. 

While Jean Vincent had a fine swagger and felt 
himself every bit as brave as the colonel, there were 
days when he could not lift his head and wished him- 
self either back at court or at the bottom of the 
ocean, anything to get rid of that dreadful mal dc 
mer, as the French call sea-sickness. 

At last Jean Vincent found himself in Quebec, 
glad enough to be ashore and starting real life. Like 
the boys of this century, he was fascinated by pirates 
and the Eed Man. The lure of the wild drew him 
and this odd little New World town, so like and 
yet so unlike the towns of his own dear France, 
enticed him. 

The year that followed w^as exciting enough to 
suit him. His regiment was continually engaged in 
skirmishes around Quebec. He saw the many hor- 
rors of Indian warfare. At first, to be sure, he 
turned sick at the cruel practice of scalping. A 
painted, half-naked Indian Chief, with his snaky 
war bonnet of feathers waving down his back, was 
not a pleasant sight to see standing over some poor 
French soldier, especially if he raised his tomahawk 
to bury it in the skull of his young victim. 



94 MAINE, MY STATE 

Chapter II 

AT LAST the Indian trouble was settled. The 
Salieres were disbanded and that was why 
Jean Vincent found himself, at fifteen, left 
stranded in New France with little money or train- 
ing for a pioneer life. In his possession was one 
other asset which proved to be the very best thing 
in his whole life. It was the royal grant of a con- 
siderable tract of land in a wild country many miles 
south of Quebec and no way to get there. 

Other young ensigns of his regiment had been 
given land nearer Quebec. In the neighborhood of 
the fort where Jean Vincent lived, was a holy mis- 
sion of the Jesuit Priests. Jean had heard them 
talking about this settlement which had been given 
him by the King. Scarcely any one lived there but 
a tribe of Indians called Abenakis. Jean had often 
been to the chapel to confess his sins, for he was a 
good Catholic. 

One day in the late summer he gathered all his 
belongings at the barracks and put them in a stout 
sea chest which had a rude lock. He sent this over 
to the cabin of Father Bigot, meaning to ask him if 
he would send it by the first French ship sailing for 
Pentagoet. Jean, that youngest ensign in the 
Salieres, was certainly good to look at, as he stood 
tapping at the Jesuit 's cabin door. He had the dash 
and dare of youth, the ^ ' devil-may-care ' ' and impe- 
rious way of the French nobility of that date. The 
bright uniform of the already disbanded King 's reg- 
iment gave an added glitter and authority to his 
boyish figure. 

At his knock the holy man opened the door. 



WHEN JEAN VINCENT FOLLOWED THE TRAIL 95 

*^Bon soir, Reverend Father," said young Jean, 
making the sign of the cross as he spoke. 

The priest, a man of delicate frame, clad in a long 
black robe with a cord tied about his waist, 
motioned for the lad to enter. Jean Vincent stood 
near the table. 

'^Father Bigot, they tell me in the parish of St. 
Anne, that you are the only one now in Quebec, who 
knows about the shores of Pentagoet which is to be 
my new home. I have come to ask you how I may 
best arrive at that settlement.'' 

^^Be seated, my son," said the priest. ^*God 
has directed your footsteps here at this opportune 
moment. Tomorrow at dawn three Algonquins who 
belong to the Abenaki tribe will start for Penta- 
goet. They are Indian runners who brought mes- 
sages to our Governor that a band of the Iroquois 
are on the war path. I will send a message by them 
commending you to their powerful chief, Mataco- 
nando. They will also show you the way to your 
new possessions. 

Jean expressed his thanks and the holy father 
continued: 

*^My son, you are over young, yet. Carry your- 
self with humility, make a good accounting to his 
Majesty by the manner in which you rule your land 
and the savage tribe which is settled there. See 
that you lead them to God." 

Chapter III 

THE NEXT morning, at the first cock's crow, 
from the little cabin of the old Indian 
woman, Monique, who lived beneath the 
shadow of the Jesuit mission, silently started two 



96 MAINE, MY STATE 

stalwart Indians, followed in single file along the 
trail by two lads. The younger was Jean Vincent. 
He wore knee breeches of stout cloth, heavy leather 
gaiters with moose-hide shoes. To be sure, a soft 
blue silken shirt or blouse tied by a black kerchief 
was next his skin, but it was completely hidden by a 
thick leathern jerkin. He was slender, about five 
feet nine in height. He had good features, dark 
brown hair, a keen blue eye and a laughing mouth 
full of strong white teeth. He appeared to have the 
bright, joyous disposition usual with the French. 
On his back he wore a pack done up in a blanket, an 
arquebus or old-fashioned musket was slung over his 
shoulder. In his belt was a hunting knife and a 
small hatchet. 

The lad walking behind him so silently, was 
larger, a handsome Indian of seventeen. He, too, 
had a pleasant mouth with big white teeth, but he 
marched along without saying a word or even giving 
a smile. He wore a full Indian suit of deer skin, 
slashed and fringed. Slung beside his pack was a 
strong bow and a quiver of cruel arrows. A scalp- 
ing knife w^as iii his belt. 

Only occasionally did the Indian runners ahead 
turn to speak to them. Most of the conversation 
with Jean Vincent Avas carried on by signs. They 
knew a few words of French and he knew some 
words of the Iroquois language which they under- 
stood. So they filed on through the Plains of Abra- 
ham until they reached the banks of the St. Law- 
rence. Quietly, the head Indian drew out his canoe 
from its hiding place. He motioned to Jean Vincent 
to take the seat arranged for a passenger. The 
others, kneeling, plied their paddles with swift, sure 



WHEN JEAN VINCENT FOLLOWED THE TRAIL 97 

strokes, until tliey reached Port Levis, eleven hun- 
dred yards across on the bank opposite Quebec. 
They carried around the Falls of Chaudiere which 
fell, one magnificent leap of 135 feet, and began the 
ascent of the Chaudiere River. 

The sun was bright and the September air was 
fresh with tonic. Jean Vincent was enjoying the 
canoe ride, but why such gloom? His companions 
made him weary. 0, for a jest with a fellow-officer 
of his regiment! 

About sundown, they reached a small stream, 
branching from the main river, winding like a shin- 
ing snake through fields growing sere and brown. 
The sheltering knoll of hemlocks and red cedars was 
perfect for a camping ground. The packs were 
unstrapped. One of the older Indians took out a 
line and fish hook which he had carved from bone, 
lighted his pipe and began to smoke as he fished 
from a neighboring rock. The other Red Man took 
two sticks which he rubbed very briskly together 
and soon a tiny spark fell to the little heap of dry 
pith he had gathered, and in a moment more a fire 
of bark and twigs burnt merrily. 

The lad had found some saplings growing 
against a big boulder, facing the water. He bent 
these over and fastened them for an Indian shelter 
called a wickie-up. He cut a few boughs from the 
hemlocks and cedars and threw them into the little 
hut. At first, Jean Vincent stood doing nothing, 
then he began to help the boy cut boughs. When 
their work was done, he pointed at the Indian boy 
and said to him, first in French and then in Iroquois, 
'^What's your name?'* 



98 MAINE, MY STATE 

Without a smile the older lad said, "Wena- 
mouet. ' ' 

' ' Where do you live ? ' ' ventured Jean Vincent. 

^ ^ Pentagoet/ ' said the other. 

' ' I like you, ' ' said Jean, ^ ' and I am going to live 
there, too. Please be friends with me." 

To his surprise Wenamouet's features flashed 
into a dazzling smile. 

'^I like you now. I talk little French. Father 
Bigot, he told me." 

Thus began their friendship. 

They helped the fishermen until they had a 
string of perch, which they broiled over the live 
coals of the fire. Then they flung their tired bodies 
on the sweet hemlock boughs. For a moment Jean 
Vincent watched the twinkling stars shining 
between the branches of their shelter and soon was 
deep in sleep. 



Chapter IV 

SO THEY went on for a week or more. Up the 
Chaudiere to Sartigan, from there to the Big 
Pond (Lake Megantic). Partridge and game 
were plentiful and the rivers teemed with fish. All 
three Indians knew both by instinct and experience, 
where to get the best fish. The French lad was 
happy in the life on the trail and friendship was 
slowly but surely cementing between him and 
Wenamouet. The dsij they completed the passage 
of the chain of lakes in the shadow of Mt. Bigelow 
before making the trail for Dead Eiver, Jean Vin- 
cent and Wenamouet left the older men fishing and 
went deeper into the woods to follow a red-winged 



WHEN JEAN VINCENT FOLLOWED THE TRAIL 99 

blackbird and see what small game was at band. 
They had lost their trail on the border of a swampy 
stretch, w^ien a long, piercing yell sounded across the 
tops of the swaying pines. 

'' What's thatf" said Jean in a hushed voice. 

*'H'st!" said Wenamouet, with his lips close to 
Jean's ear, ''Iroquois war whoop. I have seen signs 
all about. They trailed here today." 

On their return to their camping ground, they 
found it deserted, except for a broken arrow and an 
Iroquois mask over which they stumbled. The 
mask w^as a strange bit of Avood neatly fitted with 
two halves of a copper kettle, with two holes left for 
eyes. Their Indian runners had surely been taken 
captive by the hostile tribe and all food, blankets, 
and even the canoe had disappeared. 

Two sorry lads sat among the boughs that night, 
not daring to have a tire, scarcely daring to breathe. 
They were on the alert at the crackling of every 
tw^ig. The forest was alive Avitli noises. Amid 
the sobbing of the wind in the branches, sounded the 
lonesome call of the loon in the bog. A wolf raised 
his hideous voice from the fastnesses of the moun- 
tain. Every now and then came the w^eird, blood- 
curdling whoop of the Iroquois as they wound their 
way along tlie carry wdth their sullen, half-dead cap- 
tives, the sound ever growing fainter as they left 
the Abenaki's trail to go westward to seek the 
Mohawk trail. 

Toward dawn Jean fell asleep. Not for several 
hours did he wake to the peaceful twitter of small 
birds and the dancing sunlight through the inter- 
laced branches. His young friend stood over him, 
gently shaking him. 



100 MAINE, MY STATE 

*^ Arise, sluggard, it is time to eat,'' said Wena- 
mouet, pointing to a wild duck wMcli lie had just 
brought from the marsh. In a moment Jean Vin- 
cent was ready to help. They plunged the bird into 
the brook until its feathers were dripping wet, then 
buried it in the hot coals of the fire which the Indian 
boy already had made. In a short time they pulled 
it out, easily skinned off the outside and the meat 
was done to a turn, without scorching. 

All day they wandered over the carry, often 
losing the trail, then finding it again, until they 
reached Dead River. The French lad had been con- 
sidering all day their dilemma. Not a sign of 
human habitation, no canoe, no supply of food, no 
definite trail, what would become of him if any- 
thing should happen to his young friend? Could 
the Indian boy find the trail so blindly blazed? 

^'Wenamouet, can we ever get to Pentagoet 
alone?'' asked he, wistfully. 

^ ^ I think I lead right, ' ' said the Indian. 

*^Have you ever been over it before?" queried 
Jean Vincent. 

^' Ninny, how come Wenamouet at Quebec?" he 
answered. 

* ' "Where do we go now and how can we go up this 
river, you call Dead, without a canoe?" insisted 
Jean. 

^ * Indian show stupid paleface, ' ' laughed the cop- 
per-colored lad. ^^Come help me now," he contin- 
ued, *^I command, too. My father heap big chief, 
before he went to Happy Hunting Grounds. I have 
right to wear eagle feathers in hair just as much as 
little French lord." 



WHEN JEAN VINCENT FOLLOWED THE TRAIL 101 

He led the way into the deep woods, where he 
selected six good-sized logs which were lying rot- 
ting on the ground. They managed to drag them 
out, one at a time, to the river bank. There Wena- 
mouet cleared the decayed leaves from the hollow 
inside, placed the logs together, tied them securely 
with stout thongs, which he unwound from under 
his deerskin hunting jacket. They made a good 
firm raft. With their hatchets and hunting knives, 
they hurriedly shaped a passable paddle and a pole. 
On this frail craft, they launched forth down the 
river, Wenamouet paddling and Jean Vincent help- 
ing with the pole at all dangerous turns. Barring 
an occasional upset, they made good time in reach- 
ing * ^ The Forks ' ' where Dead River meets the Ken- 
nebec. Here the trail divided. The Abenaki's 
course lay up the river to Moosehead Lake. The 
trail that Benedict Arnold covered a hundred years 
later was down the Kennebec. 

Chapter V 

AFTER several days of paddling the raft on the 
river and of nights spent in the woods along 
the bank, they came to Moosehead. Jean 
Vincent was appalled at the thought of venturing on 
the rough water with that tiny log raft. Even the 
Indian boy shook his head thoughtfully when he 
saw the great waves crested with foam kicked up by 
the October wdnds sweeping over the mountain tops. 
Then a piece of luck came their way. Wena- 
mouet found, under a low spreading willow near the 
lake's outlet, a good, strong canoe with two new 
paddles. It was the first time Jean had seen him 



102 MAINE, MY STATE 

express any emotion. Wenamouet began to tread 
the measure of an Indian dance. Clapping liis 
hands, he grunted, ^^Ugh, my father, he ask the 
Great Spirit to help his son," and he repeated some 
sort of prayer in a dialect that the French boy could 
not follow. 

With this help in a time of great need, the two 
boys continued swiftly on their way. Wenamouet 
realized how much more of the trail remained to be 
covered and he was anxious to hasten along before 
November ushered in her ice and snows. The nights 
were growing cold. They had but the thin blankets 
about their packs. 

It was a short carry from the top of Moosehead 
Lake to the West Branch of the Penobscot. A long 
paddle followed to Chesuncook Lake, where they 
were obliged to carry at many impassable places 
until they came to Lake Pemadumcook. By this 
time November was at hand. The nights grew bit- 
ter and only their roaring campfires kept them from 
freezing. They were now in the land of the 
Abenakis and were no longer afraid of hostile tribes. 

The rabbit had changed its brown coat for its 
winter one of white. The squirrels and all small 
animals had drawn into their winter holes. Food 
grew very scarce. Two days and nights went by 
without a morsel of any kind to eat. Then they 
found some withered acorns, so bitter, but something 
to ease the gnawing pangs of their hunger. Jean 
Vincent was ready to give up. Then passed two 
more days absolutely without food. Wenamouet 
saw Jean Vincent chewing at a piece of leather cut 
from his leggings. The Indian stomach is accus- 



WHEN JEAN Vincent followed the trail 103 

tomed to long* winter fasts in hard years, but not so 
the French. 

"Sacre Bleu!" said Jean in quaint French oath, 
^ ' Wenamouet, shoot me with this arquebus as soon 
as 3^ou will, but I beg of you don 't scalp me. ^ ' 

Faint, dizzy, unable to stand or drag one foot 
after the other, the boy threw himself on the ground 
and began to moan in his agony. Wenamouet 
wanted to comfort him, but he knew they must keep 
on. Death was staring them in the face. If only 
they could reach some Indian village, where they 
could get food and a bit of rest. 

Then Wenamouet uttered a cry of glad surprise 
and Jean opened his eyes to see his companion run 
to a rock which showed through the light coating of 
snow. Wenamouet began to peel off some moss, 
having a red, shell-shaped leaf, covered with cater- 
pillars and spiders. He took a piece of bark and 
made a dish to hold water. Then, from the camp 
fire which he had made to warm Jean, he took red- 
hot rocks and these he dropped into the water until 
it boiled and from the moss and hot water he made 
an insipid tasting soup, which w^as nourishing 
enough to bring renewed life and hope to Jean. 

Then Wenamouet taunted him to get the boy's 
courage back, saying, ^^ Shall I tell the pretty 
squaws at Pentagoet, that the French blackbird 
showed the w^liite feather on the Abenaki trail? 
Come, little brother, take heart once more and I will 
tell you the story of the Great Moose." 

So all the w^ay to Mattawamkeag, the true friend, 
the Indian lad, kept Jean's mind from his bodily ills 
by stories of Indian lore. All the way from Quebec 
he had been teaching him w^oodcraft, how to blaze a 



104 MAINE, MY STATE 

trail, the habits of game, where the best fish hide, 
all the things the Indian learns through his early 
boyhood. 

At Mattawamkeag, the Sagamores of the Indian 
village welcomed them with hospitality. They gave 
them food and let them rest in the wigwam until 
their strength returned. Wenamouet accused Jean 
Vincent of taking notice of the handsome Indian 
girls, who wore their hair braided in a becoming 
style and wore deerskin dresses, richly embroidered 
with porcupine quills and shells. He confessed they 
did make an attractive picture to a lad lost in the 
wilderness for two months. 

Straight down the grand old Penobscot, still in 
their borrowed canoe, they paddled. A carry at 
Bangor, a tussle with the wind and rapids at Bucks- 
port narrows and Jean Vincent as he came out into 
the glory of the broad, open bay, felt as if he must 
be nearing the ocean. Wenamouet steered their 
birchen craft with long, graceful strokes through the 
back cove and into the narrow channel between the 
red-green marshes, around the sandy point into the 
deep, blue harbor. Jean saw the gently curving 
beach, fields sloping to the water's edge, a babbling 
brook lined with small fruit trees, and, back against 
the cool evergreens, a hill sloping each way to a 
white beach; a fort, a chapel, a house or two, and 
here and there in quiet domesticity, a wigwam with 
a thin line of smoke floating peacefully upward. 

^'What place is this?" asked Jean Vincent. 

* * Pentagoet, ' ' said Wenamouet. 

As Jean Vincent, Baron Castin of St. Castin, 
stepped from the canoe to the beach, hope and hap- 
piness filled his boyish soul with a sweet content. 



FOUR FORTS OF PEMAQUID 105 

. How he ruled his Abenakis, how he gained a wife 
and what befell his friend Wenamouet is a story that 
has already been twice told. 

— Louise Wheeler Bartlett. 



FOUR FORTS OF PEMAQUID 

FORTS, Pirates and Indians!! Are there any 
three words which would grip the average boy 
harder and hold before him better the Great 
Adventure *? Where were these four wonderful 
forts, is the first question. If you will follow the 
jagged coastline of Maine from Portland to beyond 
where the Damariscotta River flows into the ocean, 
you will find a long point of land marked Pemaquid, 
at the south end of which stands a noted lighthouse. 
This point is about three miles long and extends to 
the mouth of the Pemaquid River where that meets 
Johns Bay and forms the inner harbor and nearly 
surrounds a small peninsula of about eighteen acres 
upon which the four forts have been erected. Here, 
too, were found the buried paved streets, of which 
no one knows the history, and hundreds of walled 
cellars, which have been mostly filled up. That 
little spot holds more history to the square foot than 
any town in Maine. This point forms the east side 
of the great bay, which with its island in the centre, 
was named by the celebrated Capt. John Smith of 
Pocahontas fame when he was sent to this country 
by the King of England in 1614, six years before the 
arrival of the Pilgrims at Plymouth. A few men 
had come there and built rough cabins for a bare 
shelter while they traded in fish and furs — bartered 



106 MAINE, MY STATE 

from the Indians in exchange for beads and bits of 
finery. Later other men came really to settle there; 
to bnild small houses; to farm the land as well as to 
engage in fishing. 

The Indians, at first friendl}^, had been brought 
into the troubles between England and France, who 
in those days were always fighting each other. For 
the most part the tribes of Maine sided with France 
in the quarrel. The English had cheated them a bit 
more and had been much more cruel to them and now 
were trying to drive them away from the coast to the 
inland forests. The Indians, angered by these acts, 
often attacked small groups of settlers. Thus the 
pioneers at Pemaquid found they must have some 
protection against wandering bands of Indians, so 
they built a house called a block house. It was round 
without windows, but with loop-holes through 
which to put tlie muzzle of their muskets to fire on 
the foe. It was large enough to hold all the men, 
women and children of the settlement, though of 
course they were crowded. Around it was a high 
fence called a stockade which enclosed a yard where 
there was a well in case of siege. 

Ten years after this fort was built on what is now 
called Fort Bock, while Captain Shurt was in com- 
mand, there was an attack. Remember it was built 
to keep away the Indians and who do you suppose 
made that attack? Did you ever hear of Dixy Bull! 
All along our Maine coast were little schooners 
gathering up the fish caught and cured by the fish- 
ermen and the furs sold by the Indians and taking 
them either to Plymouth Colony or to the Mother 
Country (England). Every little while a pirate 
ship flaunting its black flag would sail along the 




•^-SQjSCS ^- ~«2J«aK!^^«:4r--r*^^^^~S^4SsSi^?>^ '_"?*■", .MSSBffiilBr ^.^i, •'-'FJSiteJ 



Old Fort Frederic, Pemaquid 




Fort at Pemaquid as it Looks Today 



108 MAINE, MY STATE 

shores, making an attack sometimes on a fishing 
boat and sometimes on the poor settlers. One of the 
boldest of these pirates was the famous Dixy Bull 
and in 1632 he swooped down on Shurt's fort, plun- 
dered it and plundered all the farms near. He was 
the leader of the whole pirate crew and lost but one 
man in this attack. 

"When Gov. Winthrop at Boston learned of BnlPs 
wicked deeds, he sent fonr small vessels with forty 
men aboard and others joined in the pursuit, deter- 
mined to drive all pirates from the Maine coast. 
However, this time Dixy was quick enough to 
escape. Some years after he was captured and 
taken to England where he was severely punished. 



The second fort at Pemaquid was called Fort 
Charles. It was built in 1677 under the direction of 
Sir Edmond Andros, then colonial governor of New 
York. Like the first fort, it was built of wood, two 
stories high, with a stockade or high fence around 
it. It also w^as built to keep the Indians away. 

On Penobscot Bay at a place called Pentagoet 
(Castine) lived a Frenchman, Baron Castin, who 
owned a trading house there with a fort and Catholic 
Mission. In 1689 France and England were not in 
open war but were constantly making raids against 
each other. The year before, Andros had pillaged 
Castings house and now the Baron plotted revenge 
on Andros' fort at Pemaquid. He easily secured the 
help of the Indians because he had married the 
pretty young daughter of the celebrated chief, 
Madockawando, which made him a member of their 
tribe. 



FOUR FORTS OF PEMAQUID 109 

Castin sent three canoes ahead to see that the 
way was clear and the plan was for them to wait 
two leagues from the fort, probably at what is now 
Eomid Pond. After landing, they marched, with 
great caution, toward the settlement. On their way, 
they took three prisoners, from whom they learned 
that about 100 men were in the fort and village. 

One of the three captives was named Starkey and, 
in exchange for his own liberty, he told the Indians 
that at that particular time only a few men were in 
the fort, as Mr. Giles, with a party of fourteen men, 
had gone up to his farm to work, three miles up the 
Pemaquid River. The Indians, thereupon, divided 
their little army. Part, going up to the Falls, 
killed Giles; the rest started for the fort and took 
their position between the fort and the village, so as 
to cut off the men as they came in from the fields 
where they were at work. 

The firing between the Fort and the Indians 
ceased only with darkness, when the besiegers sum- 
moned the commander to surrender the fort and 
received as a reply from someone within that *^he 
was greatly fatigued and must have some sleep.'' 

At dawn, the firing on both sides was renewed; 
but soon the firing from the fort ceased and Lieut. 
James Weems, the commander, agreed to surrender. 
Terms were made, the commander soon came out, 
at the head of 14 men, all that remained of the garri- 
son. With them came some women and children 
with packs on their backs. 

The terms of surrender included the men of the 
garrison and the few people of the village who had 
been so fortunate as to get into the fort, with the 
three English captives who had previously escaped 



110 MAINE, MY STATE 

from tlie Indians. They were allowed to take what- 
ever they could carry in their hands and to depart 
before, from Capt. Padeshall, who was killed as he 
was landing- from his boat. All the men and women 
and children of the place who had not been in the 
fort and had not been killed in the fight, were com- 
pelled to leave with the Indians for the Penobscot 
Eiver. They made the passage, some in birch-bark 
canoes and the rest in two captured sloops. The 
whole number of captives thus taken was about 50; 
but how many were killed no one knows exactly. 
The number of soldiers killed was about 16. Weems 
himself was badly burned in the face by an acci- 
dental explosion of gunpowder. 

One of the captives was Grace Higiman and the 
following story of her experiences in captivity will* 
interest you. 

"On the second day of August, 1689, the day 
Pemaquid was assaulted and taken by the Indians, 
1 was there taken prisoner and carried away by 
them, one Eken by name, a Canadian Indian, pre- 
tending to have a right to me, and to be my master. 
The Indians carried away myself and other captives 
(about 50 in number) unto the Fort of Penobscot. 
I continued there for about three years, removing 
from place to place as the Indians occasionally went, 
and Avas very hardly treated by them both in respects 
of provisions and clothing, having nothing but a torn 
blanket to cover me during the winter seasons, and 
oftentimes cruelly beaten. After I had been with 
the Indians three 3^ears, they carried me to Quebeck 
and sold me for forty crowns unto the French there 
who treated me well, gave me my libert}^, and I had 



FOUR FORTS OF PEMAQUID 111 

the King's allowance of provisions, as also a room 
provided for me, and liberty to work for myselfe. 
I continued there for two years and a halfe. 



? y 



In 1692 after Sir William Pliips, the first Colonial 
Governor of Massachusetts, of which Maine was then 
a part, had captured Port Royal, he came to Pema- 
quid to arrange to have a strong fort built which 
should maintain the rights of England to that east- 
ern territory and prevent attack of the Indians 
on the western settlements. He knew this part of 
Maine well as his boyhood had been spent here. The 
new fort was built of stone, about 700 feet square. 
It had fourteen mounted guns, about half of them 18 
pounders; the sea wall was 22 feet high with a round 
tower somewhat taller toward the west, built around 
the great rock at the west corner which the Indians 
had used to capture Fort Charles; two hundred cart- 
loads of stone were put into the building; sixty men 
were left for its defence. This fort was a great 
annoyance to the Indians as it was on their direct 
line of travel on the sea coast. 

Another trouble was arising between two French 
frigates and two British ships sent out to capture 
them. D 'Iberville, commander of the French, allied 
himself with Baron Castin who brought with him 
two hundred Penobscot Indians. D 'Iberville had 
one hundred more aboard his ships, while Villieu, a 
French officer with twenty-five French soldiers, 
joined them. The three ships made sail for Pema- 
quid, the Indians covering the distance in their 
canoes. 

The next day, August 14th, they ordered the fort 
to surrender. Its captain, Pasco Chubb, a born 



112 MAINE MY STATE 

fighter, sent back word ' ' If the sea was covered with 
French vessels and the land with Indians, I would 
not surrender.'' 

During the night the French came ashore with 
guns and the next day from a high bluff began 
throwing bombshells inside the fort. The soldiers 
and the people gathered within the fort probably had 
the surprise of their lives. Here, then, were bomb- 
shells, brought into use, probably, for the first time 
in the history of warfare in this country. It is cer- 
tain the English had no bomb-proof covers for the 
protection of those within the fort. Consternation 
and despair came with this new shrieking element of 
destruction; for it seemed that they were gathered 
like a helpless flock of sheep, to perish together. 

Then Castin sent a letter into the fort, which 
informed them that if they would surrender, they 
should be transported to a place of safety, and 
receive protection from the savages; but if they were 
taken by assault, they would have to deal with the 
Indians and must expect no quarter. 

Terms of surrender were agreed upon by the 
officers of the fort. All marched out and were taken 
to one of the islands near by for protection from the 
Indians while Villieu, with sixty French soldiers, 
took possession of the fort. They found an Indian 
confined with irons in the fort, who had been a pris- 
oner since the previous February. He was in pitia- 
ble condition. 

The fourth fort was named Fort Frederic, in 
honor of the young Prince of Wales. It was built in 
the spring of 1729, by David Dunbar, who came to 
Pemaquid from England for that express purpose, 



FOUR FORTS OF PEMAQUID 113 

bringing his family with him. He had a royal com- 
mission as governor, from the British government, 
authorizing him to rebuild the fort, as the Massachu- 
setts government had failed to do it. 

Many bloody tales of warfare might be related, 
concerning Fort Frederic, stirring tales of adven- 
tures and records of trials endured by these hardy 
border settlers. One of the tales handed down, 
relates how the Indians, on one of their unexpected 
visits, found a mother with her two daughters, pick- 
ing berries some distance from the fort.* All fled for 
protection toward the fort and the mother and the 
older girl reached it, barely escaping with their 
lives. The younger girl, not more than eleven years 
old, was seized and scalped. And now comes the 
remarkable part of the story. The savages threw 
the little girl, whom they supposed to be dying, on a 
pile of rocks, where the sun shone directly down on 
her unprotected head. The kindly, healing rays of 
the sun quickly dried the blood and stopped any fur- 
ther flow and her life was saved. And so she lived 
to grow up, one of the very few who ever survived 
the scalping knife. 

M. M^ ^ 

TV* •«• "Ts* 

When the French and Indian war closed with the 
fall of Quebec, in 1759, the usefulness of the fort was 
ended. After a few years of peace, in 1762, the 
great cannon were carried away to Boston. 

When the Eevolution began, April 19, 1775, Pem- 
aquid people became alarmed and, in town meeting, 
voted to tear down the old fort, so that the British 
could not use it against them. 

Today, near Pemaquid Beach, you may see the 
ruins of the old fort, marked by the old Fort Rock of 



114 



MAINE, MY STATE 



Pemaquid, with the date of 1607 upon it. This is 
the date of the landing of the Popham colonists, the 
first English people at that place, August 8 and 10, 
1607, thirteen years before the landing of the Pil- 
grims at Plymouth Pock. 




Horn presented by the Indians to the commander of Fort Frederic. The 
accompanying sketch was carved on the horn, and is supposed to picture his- 
toric scenes at Pemaquid. The tall spired church as an emblem of English wor- 
ship, indicated a religious community; the water sketchings of the little river 
Pemaquid with varied navigation afloat, indicated the commercial aptitude and 
business .of the Fort Frederic Settlement in the early period of English life there; 
the turkey cock, fish and deer are indications of the resources in game and the 
industries in furs and fisheries — fishery predominating. 



Fort Kock is now surrounded by the old castle, 
restored on the original foundations and with most 
of the original stone of which it was first built by 



FOUE FORTS OF PEMAQUID 115 

Sir William Pliips in 1692. This foundation was 
discovered in 1893, in good condition, after being 
buried and forgotten since the American Revo- 
lution. 

Here, also, is the old Fort House on its beautiful 
peninsula, with its 'Afield of Graves,'' the site of the 
ancient capital of Pemaquid, with its paved streets, 
which had been buried for centuries and only dis- 
covered by accident, to remind us of a people long 
ago forgotten. 

Note.- — The material in this story is from Cartland's 
''Twenty Years at Pemaquid." 




116 MAINE, MY STATE 

The Pine 

Let others have the maple trees, 

With all their garnered sweets. 
Let others choose the mysteries 

Of leafy oak retreats. 
I'll give to other men the fruit 

Of cherry and the vine. 
Their claims to all I'll not dispute 

If I can have the pine. 

I love it for its tapering grace, 

Its uplift strong and true. 
I love it for its fairy lace 

It throws against the blue. 
I love it for its quiet strength, 

Its hints of dreamy rest 
As, stretching forth my weary length, 

I lie here as its guest. 

No Persian rug for priceless fee 

Was e'er so richly made 
As that the pine has spread for me 

To woo me to its shade. 
No kindly friend hath ever kept 

More faithful vigil by 
A tired comrade as he slept 

Beneath his watchful eye. 

But best of all I love it for j 

Its soft eternal green ; | 

Through all the winter winds that roar j 

It ever blooms serene, I 

And strengthens souls oppressed by fears, \ 

By troubles multiform, • ' 

To turn, amid the stress of tears, : 

A smiling^ face to storm. 



^{=> 



— John Keudrick Bangs. 



THE COLONIAL PERIOD-FRENCH 
AND INDIAN WAR 



WITH PEPPERRELL AT LOUISBURG 

WHAT American boy or girl whose grandfather 
served in the Civil War or whose father was 
a soldier in the war with Spain, has not 
climbed upon his knee and begged him to tell the 
story of his wonderful adventures in camp or on bat- 
tlefield? And if no relative was a veteran, how 
eagerly have the children listened to stories told by 
Grand Army men at annual camp-fires on Memorial 
Day or at Fourth of July celebrations! 

It was just the 
same with the 
'Brien boys whose 
father, Morris 
O'Brien, fought witli 
the colonial militia 
that captured the for- 
tress of Louisburg in 
1745, then the strong- 
est fortification in 
America. 

There were six 
boys in the O'Brien 
f a m i 1 y, Jeremiah, 
called Jerry, being 
the oldest. Then came 
Gideon, William, Jo- 

Sir William Pepperrell g^^j^^ j^j^^^ ^^^^ jy^^^ 

nis. These boys had three sisters, Martha, Joanna 
and Marv. 




118 MAINE, MY STATE 

From tlie time Jerry was a sturdy lad and Den- 
nis a mere toddler, these boys were never happier 
than when, gathered abont the big fireplace in their 
home in Scarboro, their father related the story of 
General Pepperrell and the siege of Louisburg. 
Before he could begin the story of the great expedi- 
tion, the boys always insisted that their father tell 
about his voyage across the sea in one of Pepperrell 's 
ships and his landing at Kittery where the first thing 
he saw was the General's fine mansion as it stood 
on the hillside facing the sea. 

^^You must know, my lads, that although I was 
bound out to a respectable tailor of Cork, my old 
home in Ireland, and had well learned his good 
trade, I was not satisfied to pass all my days cooped 
in a shop stitching away with thread and needle and 
pressing seams with an iron goose. I yearned to be 
out in the world, where brave deeds were being done 
and where a young man might win a fortune, such as 
was never made in a tailor's shop. 

^^One day an American sea captain came to our 
shop and ordered a suit of clothes to be made within 
two weeks, when his ship would be ready for the 
homeward voyage. That was like the Americans, I 
thought, always w^anting things in a hurry. But the 
master took the order, and gave the work to me. 
which, by dint of hard labor, I was able to finish at 
the appointed time. 

^ ' During the two weeks the captain was much at 
our shop, for he was most particular as to the set of 
his garments; and while I measured, fitted and 
stitched, he, being a genial man, talked much of his 
life on the sea, of his ship and her owner, William 
Pepperrell of Kittery in the Massachusetts Colony. 



WITH PEPPERRELL AT LOUISBURG 119 

* ' When my work was finished, the captain had a 
suit of which to be proud, and so he seemed ; for when 
he paid the master he slipped a half crown into my 
hand, saying that America was just the place for a 
young man who had so well learned his trade. 

"From that day I determined to go to America, 
and the summer following, being twenty-five years 
old, I took passage with the same captain in another 
of the Pepperrell ships making her maiden voyage. 

"I had many talks with the captain before we 
reached this side of the ocean and came to know 
much more concerning William Pepperrell, his ships 
and warehouses, his great estate including several 
towns and hundreds of acres of virgin forest 
between the two rivers, Saco and Piscataqua, whence 
came the timber of the vessels built in his own ship- 
yards at Kittery. I learned of the splendid man- 
sion, PepperrelPs home, with the carved furniture 
and rich hangings, from whose windows the owner 
might see his ships discharging valuable cargoes 
from foreign lands and still other ships ready to 
launch from the nearby yards. 

"When I reached America, I soon found that all 
the captain told was true. William Pepperrell was 
not only the richest man in the colony but also one 
of the most respected and beloved because of his 
noble character, kind and genial manner toward all, 
his devotion to the public welfare and the wisdom 
and faithfulness with which he performed every 
duty. The generous hospitality of his beautiful 
home was dispensed alike to neighbors and to guests 
of high degree. 

"When a young man he had been appointed to 
responsible civil and military offices and now was 



120 



MAINE, MY STATE 



president of the Governor's Council and Lieutenant 
Colonel of the York County regiment of militia. 

^' Often did I see the Colonel walking about the 
streets of Kittery dressed in a rich suit of scarlet and 
gold, with lace frills at wrist and neck and gold 
buckles at the knee. More often was he to be seen 




Pepperrell Mansion, Kittery. 

As it looked in the days of Sir William. It still stands, but 
has been remodelled 

riding in his great coach with gay outriders and 
attendants. 

* ' One Sabbath, soon after my arrival, I went with 
others of the village to the Pepperrell mansion to 
listen to the famous Parson Whitefield, a great friend 
of the Pepperrells and a frequent visitor at 
their home. The Colonel welcomed each guest on 



WITH PEPPERRELL AT LOUISBURG 121 

entering the great liall, and when he knew I was a 
stranger but lately come to Kittery bade me a 
friendly welcome and wished me well. From tliat 
moment I would have served him gladly, even at 
risk of my life. 

*^ However, I did not remain long in Kittery, 
there being no need for another tailor. Upon look- 
ing about, I came to Scarboro and here at Dnnstans' 
Corner I have had my shop all these years, busy 
years and happy too, for soon I met your mother and 
now you children are all here. Only once have I 
parted from home and dear ones and that was at the 
time when I went with other men of Scarboro to help 
capture the great French fortress at Louisburg. ' ' 

Chapter II. 

^ ' Tell us about Louisburg, ' ' the children pleaded. 

^'That is a long story," said Morris O'Brien. 

^'The news that France and England had de- 
clared war reached Louisburg several weeks before 
it was known in Boston and the French Governor 
soon sent out a party of soldiers and Lidians who 
captured the village of Canso in Acadia, burning the 
dwellings and taking eighty prisoners back to Louis- 
burg," Morris O'Brien continued. 

''When this became known in New England, the 
people, who remembered the last war with the 
French, were filled with terror at what might befall 
their homes and families at the hands of these 
French war parties. 

' ' Our Colonel Pepperrell sent word to all his cap- 
tains to be prepared for attacks and added, 'I hope 
that he who gave us breath will also give us courage 



122 MAINE, MY STATE 

to behave ourselves like true-born Englishmen.' 
This message encouraged the people, but all felt that 
so long as Louisburg was a French stronghold there 
was no promise of safety. 

'^ Moreover," O'Brien continued, ^'merchants 
like Pepperrell, who had many vessels engaged in 
the fisheries and in trade with Europe and the West 
Indies, knew they would meet great losses; for the 
French warships would sail out from that safe har- 
bor and capture their vessels, crews and rich car- 
goes. 

^'For these reasons, the people of the Colonies 
longed to see Louisburg captured and were willing to 
help reduce it. Our Governor Shirley and others 
were planning how this might best be accomplished 
when the Canso prisoners, who had been kept at 
Louisburg for several months, were sent to Boston, 
as the French had promised them. 

^^ These men were eagerly questioned by the 
officials who wished to know more about the place 
and the strength of the fortifications. They replied 
that although the fort was strong and well fortified 
with powerful guns, the garrison was mutinous, the 
supplies of food were low and no more could be 
obtained until the ships came from France in the 
spring. 

"So it was plainly seen that CA^en a small army 
might capture Louisburg, if it attacked just as the 
ice was breaking up the following spring, before help 
arrived from France. And this was the plan de- 
cided upon by the Colonial authorities. 

"When Governor Shirley called for volunteers 
and we heard that our beloved Colonel Pepperrell 
had been appointed to lead the expedition, there was 



WITH fEPPERRELL AT LOUISBURG 1^3 

excitement and enthusiasm everywhere, for we 
believed that, with Pepperrell as commander, we 
should be successful. 

^'You may be sure I was among the first of the 
Scarboro men to enlist and w^as in the first company 
of the General's own regiment. 

^^It was early in February when enlisting began 
and so rapidly were the regiments recruited and sup- 
plies obtained that within two months the forces 
were on transports in Boston Harbor ready to sail 
for Louisburg. 

^ ' Meanwhile a fleet of thirteen armed vessels had 
been collected and, wdth Capt. Edw^ard Tyng of Fal- 
mouth as commodore, sailed in advance of the trans- 
ports to capture any French vessels that might try 
to get into Louisburg with supplies. The expedition 
was also joined by a small squadron of the Royal 
Navy, which had wintered in the West Indies, com- 
manded by Sir Peter Warren. This proved of great 
importance during the siege, for with the colonial 
fleet a strict blockade of Louisburg Harbor was 
maintained and several French ships captured. 

'^It had been planned to surprise the French if 
possible, but when w^e reached Canso it was found 
that an immediate attack was impossible, for the 
waters around Cape Breton Island were still ice- 
bound. So the troops were landed at Canso. Here 
we passed three wrecks impatiently waiting for the 
ice to clear. We used this time to good advantage 
in building a battery and block house, preparing 
necessary supplies and in daily drill. 

'^On April twenty-sixth w^ord was brought by 
one of the cruisers that the ice had left Gabarus Bay 



124 MAINE, MY STATE 

and tliree days later we sailed for Cape Bretorl 
Island. 

*'0f course it was impossible to surprise the 
French, for they had seen our fleet and sent a force 
of soldiers from the fort to prevent our landing. 
General Pepperrell easily deceived them as to the 
Xjlace by sending out several boats towards Flat 
Point, but, when near to the shore, they suddenly 
turned and came back toward the transports. Other 
boats then joined them and tlie}^ pulled at top speed 
for a small cove two miles above the point, and 
reached it some time before the French could march 
around by land. When they did arrive, enough of 
our men were ashore easily to drive the French back 
to Louisburg. Thus we were unopposed, and during 
the day landed two thousand men. 

^'General Pepperrell lost no time in finding out 
all that could be learned regarding the region around 
Louisburg. That first afternoon he sent Colonel 
Vaughan, one of his most fearless and resolute 
officers, with four hundred soldiers to reconnoiter. 

^^At night Vaughan sent all except thirteen of his 
men back to camp with his report, but he and the 
thirteen passed the night in the woods. 

'^In the morning occurred the most fortunate 
event of the siege. When Vaughan and his little 
company of men, on their return, came opposite the 
Roj^al Batter}^, nothing was to be seen of the garri- 
son. One of his men, a Cape Cod Indian, was sent 
forward to investigate and found that the French 
had abandoned the Battery during the night after 
spiking the guns. 

*' Vaughan and his men took possession of the 
Royal Battery which the French had abandoned, 



WITH PEPPERRELL AT LOUISBURG 125 

and William Tufts, a lad of eighteen, climbed the 
flag-pole and fastened to its top his scarlet coat as a 
substitute for the British flag. 

''This Royal Battery was indeed a prize for it not 
only commanded the harbor, and if held by the 
French could easily have kept off our blockading 
ships, but it contained thirty-five cannon of which 
w^e were in sore need. These had been hastilv 
spiked, but Major Pomroy, a gunsmith by trade, 
soon had them drilled open and before night they 
were ready to use against the fortress. 

''Soon a tremendous difficulty presented itself. 
General Pepperrell had ordered a battery of 
our guns, which had been landed from the trans- 
ports, placed on Green Hill, the first in the range 
north of the fortress. This hill was two miles from 
our camp and the intervening land was a low, wet 
swamp. When we tried to drag the first gun across 
this swamp, the wheels of the carriage at once sank 
to the hubs in moss and mud, and, before long, car- 
nage and gun had disappeared. What could be 
done? Our difficulty was solved by Colonel Meserve 
of the New Hampshire regiment. He had been a 
ship-builder and his knowledge of such work now 
served a good purpose, for he ordered built rude 
sledges of heavy timbers and on these we placed the 
guns. We had no oxen or horses to haul the sledges, 
nor would they have been of much help for they also 
would have sunk in the spongy soil. So we formed 
great teams of two hundred each, and, harnessed to 
the sledges with rope and breast-straps and traces, 
we dragged the guns along, wading to our knees in 
the muck. In this manner with prodigious labor 
we got the guns into place and in four days or rather 



126 MAINE, MY STATE 

nights, for we had to work under cover of darkness 
to escape the French cannon balls, a battery of six 
gnns was planted on Green Hill and began at once to 
return the French fire. 

'^As all other means had failed, it was decided to 
try a midnight attack. Four hundred men under 
Captain Brooks, on the night of May twenty-sixth, 
put off in boats from the Royal Battery and nearly 
reached the island before they were discovered by 
the French. At once shot and shell fell upon the 
boats as the guns of the French battery were turned 
on them. Although some of our men reached the 
island and made a dash for the works with scaling 
ladders, they were driven back by the terrific fire 
of the enemy and many were killed. Others were 
driven into the sea and drowned, but the largest 
number were made prisoners, only a few return- 
ing safely to the Hojal Battery. This was our 
severest loss of the siege and proved that the Island 
Battery could not be captured by a sortie. So 
another plan was tried. 

^^At the right of the harbor entrance just oppo- 
site the Island Battery and only half a mile distant, a 
new battery was planted under command of Colonel 
Gridley. As this point was too far from camp to 
drag the guns by the team method, it was necessary 
to take them around by boat, then hoist them up the 
steep, rough cliffs and so get them into position. By 
June fourteenth six guns were ready, and at noon 
they joined with all our other guns in a salute in 
honor of King George, that day being the anni- 
versary of his accession to the throne. 

'^On the day following Commodore Warren came 
ashore for a council with General Pepperrell and his 



WITH PEPPERRELL AT LOUISBURG 127 

officers. It was planned by tliem to make a com- 
bined attack npon the fortress; the fleet coming into 
harbor and bombarding while our forces attacked 
from the land. Jnst as Sir Peter was abont to return 
to his flagship, Duchambon, the French commander, 
sent ont a messenger under flag of truce, asking for 
suspension of hostilities and terms of surrender. 

' * On May seventh, when the siege had but begun, 
Pepperrell and "Warren had sent Duchambon a sum- 
mons to surrender. He had replied that his king had 
confided the command of the fortress to him and his 
only reply must be by the mouth of his cannon. 
Now, however, he was ready to surrender for the 
French were in a perilous condition. The accurate 
and incessant fire of our guns had wrought appalling 
destruction to the walls and gates of the fortress. 
The town was a ruin. Reinforcements from Canada 
had not arrived and the ships sent from France with 
supplies of food and ammunition had been captured 
by our cruisers. Sensing all this the French could do 
naught but capitulate, accepting the terms offered by 
our commanders who assured them of ^lumane and 
generous treatment.' 

^'That was a happy day for us you may be sure, 
and a proud one, too, for we had accomplished that 
which the French had considered impossible. In six 
weeks the strongest fortifications in America had 
fallen, not to veterans with trained leaders, but to a 
small force of raw, provincial militia commanded 
by a merchant. Yes, our victory was complete. No 
longer could Louisburg shelter our enemies or endan- 
ger our liberties. 

**King George showed his appreciation of Pep- 
perrell 's services by creating him a Baronet of Great 



128 MAINE, MY STATE 

Britain, and of Warren's services by making him a 
Rear Admiral. Later Pepperrell and Governor 
Shirley were made Colonels in the British Army, 
thongh never called into active service." 

When Morris 'Brien finished his story he arose 
and took from the high shelf over the fireplace the 
only relic of the siege that he had brought back from 
Lonisburg. This was a brass mortar and pestle 
which some French housewife had left in her hasty 
departure from the town. 

Perhaps listening to this story made the 'Brien 
boys brave and daring, for after the family had 
moved to Machias and Jerry and Gideon had become 
young men, they were leaders in the capture of the 
British cutter ^^Margaretta" in Machias Bay, June 
12, 1775, the first naval battle of the Revolution. 

— Beulah Sylvester Oxton. 



SAMUEL WALDO, SOLDIER AND COLONIZER 

WHEN, in response to the teacher's question, 
we name the counties of Maine, two in that 
list should remind us of two of the State's 
great men, Henry Knox and Samuel Waldo. Knox 
was, perhaps, the greater general; but Waldo, 
though two generations earlier, was the more active 
in the development of our State. Oddly enough. 
General Knox married the grand-daughter of Gen- 
eral Waldo, and, partly by purchase, partly by inher- 
itance, acquired the whole of the Waldo Patent. 

Samuel Waldo had an interesting ancestry. His 
father, Jonathan Waldo, or von Waldow, was a Ger- 
man noblejTian^ who had established himself as a 



SAMUEL WALDO, SOLDIER AND COLONIZER 129 

merchant in Boston. Samuel is said to liave been 
born in London, but his boyhood was passed in 
Boston. 

He spent some time in the Boston Latin School, 
but at eighteen had left his books and was acting as 
clerk in his father's office. Later, he tried a business 
venture with his brother Cornelius, trading to 
Europe and the "West Indies. 

His education did not cease here. He went 
to Harvard, and then was sent to Germany to finish 
his training. It is said that he entered the body 
guard of the Elector of Hanover, later George I. of 
England, and went with him to London. 

On his father's death, Waldo returned to Boston 
to take charge of the business. His military train- 
ing was soon recognized, and he was made Colonel 
of Militia. Later, by his conspicuous services in the 
capture of Louisburg, he earned the title of general. 

Equally as successful in business as in war, he 
soon acquired large tracts of land. The Patent 
which bears his name was obtained in a particularly 
interesting way. 

In 1630, the Plymouth Council, fearing that it 
might be dissolved, made various hasty grants of 
land. Among these grants was one called the Mus- 
congus Patent, including the present counties of 
Knox and Waldo, as well as a part of Lincoln. This 
grant was made free of cost to John Beauchamp of 
London and Thomas Leverett of Boston, England, in - 
the hope that its settlement would increase the value 
of the other wild land. The Patent finally fell into 
the hands of one of Leverett 's descendants, who 
formed a company, known as the ^* Thirty Proprie- 
tors." The ''Thirty" in 1731 got into difficulties, 



130 MAINE, MY STATE 

and sent Samnel Waldo to England to get tliem ont. 
He succeeded so well that on Ms return the proprie- 
tors gave him half the Patent for his pains. Later, 
he purchased the other half, and the tract became 
known as the Waldo Patent. 

Getting settlers, however, was not so easy as get- 
ting land. A few Scotch-Irish were induced to set- 
tle near St. George's, and a still smaller number of 
English at Medumcook, now Friendship. Some- 
thing must be done to get colonists. Waldo 
bethought him of his German kin, who had proved 
such good colonists in Pennsylvania. In 1738, he 
made a trip to Germany and spread broadcast circu- 
lars promising land and prosperity to all who should 
cross the seas. A few families made the crossing in 
1739, and more, perhaps forty families from Bruns- 
wick and Saxony, in 1742. These colonists landed 
first at Marblehead, Massachusetts, then made their 
way to Broadbay and laid the foundation of the pres- 
ent town of Waldoboro. 

They had encountered almost as many delays 
and discouragements as did the Pilgrims. They met 
at Manheim, from this point proceeding to Mul- 
heim, below Cologne, where they waited several 
weeks for ships. Again they were delayed at Rot- 
terdam, so that they did not reach the New World 
until October. They were welcomed in state by 
Governor Shirley and several Assemblymen; but this 
reception was the only good the New World was to 
offer them. 

They reached Broadbay in November, to find, 
instead of the fields and village the circulars had led 
them to expect, only an uncleared wilderness, and 
^vinter coming on. They feared to hunt and kneiy 



SAMUEL WALDO, SOLDIER AND COLONIZER 131 

not how to fisli. Terrible were the privations which 
they endnred. When that winter of famine and dan- 
ger passed, and spring brought a ray of hope, the 
survivors petitioned Governor Shirley for help, 
which was refused. Some left the settlement, 
others were killed in Indian raids, and for two years 
the land lay unbroken. 

In 1748, following the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, 
settlement was resumed in the Patent. Thirty more 
families came to Broadbay that autumn, to meet even 
worse conditions than their predecessors had faced. 
With the rudest of log huts and insufficient sup- 
plies, they faced the rigors of a Maine winter. Many 
died from exposure, some few survived. Later, other 
families joined the remnant, and a thriving town 
grew up. Educated men were among the colonists, 
so church and school followed. The quaint old 
church in which these men of Broadbay worshiped 
still stands in Waldoboro Village, though not on its 
original site. 

Waldo has been bitterly criticised for his treat- 
ment of these colonists and for his glowing promises 
unfulfilled. Perhaps, however, much of this blame 
was undeserved. He may not intentionally have mis- 
led them as to conditions in the Patent. Be that as 
it may, the colony he founded in time became part 
of the State 's strength. 

General Waldo must have been a man of striking 
personality. How he looked, we know; for his por- 
trait hangs in Bowdoin College. Tall, dark, com- 
manding, he breathed power. Enterprising and ad- 
venturous he surely was, for he crossed the ocean no 
less than fifteen times. 



132 MAINE, MY STATE 

His death, like Ms life, was out of the ordinary. 
He had ascended the Penobscot to a point near the 
present town of Brewer, in order to settle the ques- 
tion of the boundary of his patent. After landing, 
so the story goes, General Waldo stepped back a few 
paces on the bank, and, looking about him, cried, 
"Here are my bounds," and instantly fell dead. 
His body was buried in King's Chapel Burying 
Ground, Boston, the spot marked by a simple tablet. 
Thus passed one of the builders of Maine. 

— Jessica J. Haskell. 



WHEN JOHN ALDEN WENT TO JAIL 

LET it be said at the outset that the stay of John 
Alden in jail was a short one; that he was there 
not as a convicted felon, but as the result of 
charges, and that he was found absolutely blameless 
of these charges, which involved nothing less than 
the crime of murder. This, for the sake of the multi- 
tude of Americans who are proud to trace their 
ancestry back to the stalwart youth of Plymouth, 
whose wooing the demure Priscilla encouraged; also 
for the sake of the peace of mind of that greater 
number who honor John Alden as one of the noblest 
of that Pilgrim band which laid the corner-stone of 
the nation. 

But the imprisonment of John Alden in Boston, 
as the result of a fatal shooting affair in the far-off 
wilderness of Maine, is an event in his life which has 
been ignored or lightly touched upon by most 
writers; and the tragic affair itself is given such 
brief mention in most of the chronicles of early New 



WHEN JOHN ALDEN WENT TO JAIL 133 

England that it almost seems to belong to the misty 
realm of legend and tradition. 

The reason for this is that the story of the Pil- 
grim Fathers on the Kennebec has never been given 
its due prominence. As a matter of fact, the Pil- 
grims maintained a trading-post on the Kennebec, 
where Augusta now stands, from 1627 to 1661, and 
by the profits of this trade — and only by these profits 
— were they able to pay their burdensome debt in 
England, and save the colony from ruin. For over a 
third of a century, winter and summer, the leading- 
men of Plymouth w^ere in turn in charge of the trad- 
ing-post at Koussinoc, as it was called, and were as 
familiar with that region as with Plymouth itself. 
Yet so little emphasis has been placed upon chis 
important chapter of Pilgrim history that even the 
school-teachers of Maine, in telling their pupils the 
ever new story of the ^'Mayflower," fail to mention 
that the head of the tide on the beautiful Kennebec 
was visited, not once, but through many years, by 
Myles Standish, John Alden, Edward Winslow, John 
AVinslow, John Howdand, and the others whose 
names are usually associated only with Plymouth 
Eock. 

It was in the early spring of 1634 that John Alden 
sailed from Plymouth to the Kennebec with supplies 
for the trading-post, of which John Howland was 
then in charge. The extent of the trade carried on 
with the peaceful Abnaki Indians may be imagined 
when it is stated that in this year, 1634, no less than 
twenty hogsheads of beaver skins, not to mention 
other furs, were shipped to England. Rumors of 
this profitable business had aroused the jealousy of 
the English on the Piscataqua, and they sent John 



134 MAINE, MY STATE 

Hocking as their representative to claim a sliare of 
the Kennebec. 

Hocking's arrival at Konssinoc was bound to 
precipitate trouble. John Howland at once ordered 
him to return down-river, and a stormy colloquy 
followed. Hocking, '^witli ill words," refused to 
leave, and in token of his assumed rights, and also 
that he might intercept the fur-laden canoes coming 
down to Koussinoc, he anchored his craft in the 
river above the post. John Alden was a witness to 
what followed, but does not appear to have had any 
part in the exciting drama. 

With four men in boats, John Howland put out 
into the stream and again ordered Hocking to 
depart. Again there was a contemptuous refusal, 
and Howland directed his men to cut the cables of 
the intruder's boat. As they were about to do this, 
Hocking seized the gun which he had ready, and 
threatened their lives. 

''Shoot me, not them!'^ cried the intrepid How- 
land, springing to the rail of his boat. ''They are 
only obeying my orders!" 

But Hocking fired at short range at one of the 
men, Moses Talbot, as he cut the rope, and Talbot 
fell dead in the boat. Upon this one of the others 
promptly fired at Hocking, and he also fell, shot 
through the head, and died without a word. The 
old chroniclers discreetly fail to mention the name 
of the man who thus avenged Talbot's death. In 
his brief account of the affair, Governor Bradford 
simply says that it was ' ' one of his fellows that loved 
him well," and distinctly states that John Alden, 
although present, "was no actore in ye business." 

Naturally, when the news of the affair reached 



WHEN JOHN ALBEN WENT TO JAIL 135 

the Piscataqua and Plymouth colonies, there was 
intense excitement. Massachusetts Bay, moreover, 
felt called upon to interfere in behalf of the Piscata- 
qua plantation, and bitter feeling was aroused 
between Boston and Plymouth. When John Alden, 
having returned from the Kennebec, went to Bos- 
ton on business, he was seized by the authorities of 
that tow^n and put into prison. Capt. Myles Stand- 
ish hurried to his rescue and tried to secure his 
release, but the Boston magistrates insisted on a 
hearing of the whole case. Winslow and Bradford 
appeared in behalf of Plymouth, and Winthrop and 
Dudley in behalf of Massachusetts Bay. The Pis- 
cataqua plantation did not even bother to send a rep- 
resentative. It was finally made plain that the 
Plymouth traders were on the Kennebec by virtue 
of a royal patent covering that region, granted in 
1672, and that the shooting of Hocking had been an 
act of self-defense, after he had killed Talbot. 
Whereupon John Alden was allowed to depart in 
peace to the anxious Mistress Priscilla and the chil- 
dren, and the men of Plymouth enjoyed undisputed 
possession of Koussinoc and the Abnaki trade until 
the game became so scarce and the red hunters so 
few that the post w^as abandoned. Its decaying 
ruins were visible a generation later. 

It is from Father Gabriel Druillettes and other 
Jesuit missionaries, who came down through the 
wilderness from Quebec, and who maintained for 
many years a mission on the Kennebec, a mile or 
two above the trading post at Koussinoc, that we 
learn most about the life of the Pilgrims there. Pos- 
sibly one reason why the Pilgrims themselves wrote 
so little about it is that they did not care to have the 



136 MAINE, MY STATE 

world of that time know too much about the nature 
and extent of their business on the Kennebec. They 
had no trouble with the Indians, but they made no 
attempt to civilize or Christianize them. They wel- 
comed the Jesuit mission, and Father Druillettes and 
John Winslow were particularly warm friends. 

There is a story that one Englishman who came 
to Koussinoc frequently worshiped at the little mis- 
sion chapel above the post. It is assumed that this 
was Myles Standish, who came of a Catholic family 
in England, and who never joined the Pilgrims in 
their church relations. It rather upsets the popular 
notion of the bigotry of those times to read that 
Father Druillettes went from Koussinoc to Plymouth 
and Boston, where he was most cordially received. 
He was even allowed to celebrate mass in a Puritan 
home, and was hospitably entertained by John Eliot, 
the apostle to the Indians. 

The precise spot upon which the Koussinoc trad- 
ing-post stood has been in dispute among historians. 
It was near an island at the head of the tide, and 
most authorities have located it on the plateau at the 
east end of the bridge at Augusta, where historic 
Fort Western, which is still standing, was erected in 
1754, almost a century after the post was abandoned. 
There are many things to support this idea. Others 
have located it a little farther up the river, and 
although in the minority, they stoutly maintain 
their position. 

A few years ago an Augusta antiquarian, Dr. W. 
Scott Hill, in exploring some of the many Indian 
graves near the river, two or three miles above the 
city, came across two graves close together, which 
were plainly different from the others. Only a rusty 



THE STORY OF LOVEWELl's FIGHT 137 

discoloration of tlie soil remained of what had once 
been human bodies; but there were strands and 
shreds of cloth which quickly crumbled when ex- 
posed to the air, and a number of shot, discovered 
by a minute examination, offered a suggestion of 
tragedy. Moreover, in one of the graves there was 
a pipe of peculiar make, of which there is an exact 
duplicate in the collection of Pilgrim relics at Ply- 
mouth. These things convinced Doctor Hill that the 
graves of John Hocking and Moses Talbot had come 
to light after more than two centuries and a half, 
and that the scene of the 1634 tragedy, and conse- 
quently the site of the post itself, was thus definitely 
located at a point several miles above old Fort West- 
ern. It is known, however, that the shooting- 
occurred above the post, but how far above can never 
be know^n. 

• — John Clair Minot. 



THE STOEY OF LOVEWELL'S FIGHT 

ON A MORNING in May of 1725, the peace and 
beauty of the Saco River Valley was suddenly 
broken by the appearance of mighty Paugus, 
chief of the Pequawket Indians, with Wahowa and a 
band of eighty warriors, returning from a scouting 
trip down the Saco. They were bound for their 
homes, the wigwams of Pequawket, the only settle- 
ment for many miles in this wilderness, with the 
exception of a small one on Lake Ossipee. This was 
in the great bend of the upper waters of the Saco, 
near where the village of Fryeburg is now located. 
The Pequawkets were a branch of the Sokokis tribe, 



138 MAINE, MY STATE 

driven north from the mouth of the Saco into the 
interior, by the coming of the English settlers. Their 
name means crooked place, which exactly described 
the location of their settlement. 

Pang^s and his men were armed Avith gnns, 
knives and hatchets, their mighty forms and savage 
faces telling of crnel and relentless purpose. Their 
hearts were filled with bitterness toward the hated 
white men, who had driven their people from the 
land they had occupied. 

As they came within a few miles of their wig- 
wams, suddenly Paugus halted and gazed at the 
ground. Instantly Wahowa followed his look and 
saw a mark on the soft ground just at one side. 
'^ White man! Trail!" his fierce look said, and his 
men knew there was danger. 

They advanced slowly, reaching a small brook, 
when suddenly the leader saw in the distance, under 
some tall pine trees, the packs of their enemies. 
From his hiding place, Paugus could count the 
packs, and found there were thirty-four. His heart 
leaped for joy when he found that his warriors far 
outnumbered those of the white men. When no 
movement was made, Paugus sent several of his men 
to bring the packs. 

Suddenly, in the distance, a shot rang out, fol- 
lowed by several others. These shots came from 
Capt. John Lovewell and his thirty-four rangers 
from Dunstable, Massachusetts, 130 miles from the 
Indian village of Pequawket. How did these men 
happen to be in the enemy's country, so far from 
their homes? 

Capt. John Lovewell was a fighter, known and 
feared by the Indians, as he and his band of rangers 



THE STORY OF LOVEWELl's FIGHT 139 

had been on various expeditions and had killed and 
scalped many of the red men. 

Years before, some of the settlers had cheated the 
Indians. The hatred of Sqnando, one of the chiefs 
of the Sokokis tribe, had been aroused by a cruel act 
of some sailors, who, just to see if the papoose could 
swim, tipped over the canoe in which his squaw and 
papoose were coming down the river. The child 
sank to the bottom of the river, the mother rescued 
him, but the little boy soon sickened and died, and 
Sqnando and his tribe swore vengeance on the white 
man. Thus a few thoughtless and cruel men brought 
the hatred of the Indians upon the white settlers. 

So many white settlers had been killed that John 
Lovewell and other men asked permission to form a 
company of rangers to hunt and kill Indians. The 
Legislature of Massachusetts granted their request 
and agreed to pay them one hundred pounds, or $500 
in our money, for every Indian whose scalp they 
brought home. John Lovewell was made captain 
of the rangers. Their uniform was like that of 
woodsmen, and each was armed with a firelock and a 
hatchet, carrying under his right arm a powder 
horn, and at his waist a leather bag for bullets. To 
each officer was given a pocket compass. 

Chief Paugus of the Pequawket band had been 
called The Scourge of Dunstable, because he had 
made raids on the settlement and with his warriors 
had killed many of the men and women. Paugus 
was a mighty man, tall and strong. He could run 
like a fox and howl like a wolf, and do many other 
wonderful things. Capt. Lovewell and his rangers 
decided to go into that country and see if they could 
not kill some of the Pequawket Indians so as to pre- 



140 MAINE, MY STATE 

vent their coming to the settlements. So they 
started forth, a little band of forty-six men. Some 
became sick and were sent back. Those who were 
still active decided to bnild a fort on the west shore 
of Ossipee Pond, in New Hampshire. They planned 
to return thither after the battle, for protection. 
Only thirty-four men went on to the Pequawket 
country. 

Twenty-two days after they left their homes in 
Dunstable they came to a pond near which they 
camped. It was later named LovewelPs Pond in 
honor of the captain of the rangers. 

The next morning. May 8th, while they were still 
at prayers, they heard a gun, and, on going out to 
look, saw an Indian on the other side of the pond, 
shooting ducks. Suspecting some trap, the Captain 
said to his men, ' ' Shall we go forward or wait behind 
the trees until the Indians come this way ? ' ' 

The men talked it over and then said: ^^Let us 
go forward!^' 

Skulking behind trees they advanced cautiously 
about a mile and a half and surrounded the Indian, 
whom they had seen shooting. Shots were ex- 
changed and the Indian succeeded in wounding 
Captain Love well and one other man before being 
killed by the rangers. 

These were the shots which Chief Paugus and his 
warriors had heard, while they were examining the 
packs which Lovewell's men had left hidden among 
the trees in the deep ravine of the brook. 

Captain Lovewell, although wounded, tried to 
make the rangers think he was not badly hurt and 
led the way back to the place where their packs had 
been left. 



THE STORY OF LOVEWELL's FIGHT 141 

The rangers had just reached the brook, when, 
suddenly, the air was filled with the hideous yells of 
the savages, as they darted from behind trees and 
rushed upon the white men. Though taken com- 
pletely by surprise, the rangers quickly formed into 
groups and ran toward the Indians. Paugus ordered 
his men to shoot high at the first volley, so that none 
of the rangers were injured, but the rangers aimed 
straight at the Indians and killed nine of them. 

Paugus withdrew his men toward the ravine, but 
soon rushed out upon the rangers, firing when twice 
a gun's length away. The rangers were driven 
back. Captain Lovewell and six of his men were 
killed and several others wounded. 

^'Take quarter?" asked the Indians, holding up 
ropes, which meant they would bind the white men 
as prisoners. 

^'Only at the muzzles of our guns!" replied En- 
sign Wyman, who was in command after the other 
officers were killed. 

The rangers fell back to the shore of the pond. 
From the protection of a bank, they shot at the In- 
dians, who returned the fire. The sun rose higher 
and higher, but it was not very light in the thick 
woods. The men were faint and famished, having 
had no food since early morning. Only twenty-five 
of the rangers were capable of shooting, but they 
scattered as best they could and kept on firing 
wherever an Indian appeared from behind the trees 
or rocks. 

The terrible battle lasted until sunset. The In- 
dians kept yelling and howling, barking like dogs 
and making all kinds of wild and hideous noises. 
The rangers replied with yells and cheers. 



142 MAINE, MY STATE 

Once the Indians held a pow-wow to keep up their 
courage. The rangers heard them beating the 
ground and uttering unearthly yells. Ensign Wyman 
crept up behind the trees and, taking careful aim, 
shot Chief Paugus through the heart. As it became 
dark, the Indians withdrew, leaving fully half of 
their number dead under the trees and beside the 
brook. 

The rangers dared not move. They thought the 
Indians were planning to return and kill them all. 
The wind came up and, blowing through the pine 
trees, added its sighs to the anguished moans of 
wounded and dying men. At last, as the Indians did 
not return, the rangers tried to assemble their men. 
They had no food, for the Indians had taken it. They 
had no extra ammunition, for the Indians had 
emptied their packs. Their blankets also had been 
carried away and the night was cold. Of the twen- 
ty-two brave men surviving, two were so badly 
wounded they could not be moved and eight others 
were suffering from wounds. 

A harrassing question arose. Should the able- 
bodied leave their friends alone to die or to be cap- 
tured by the Indians in the morning, or should they 
remain and all share the same fate? The wounded 
urged their comrades to go while escape was possi- 
ble. One asked to have his gun loaded, so that he 
might protect himself if the Indians came before he 
died. All spoke bravely and sent messages to the 
dear ones at home. 

With many misgivings and sick at heart, a rem- 
nant of the brave band of rangers started about mid- 
night on the journey to the fort, nearly 40 miles 
away. Chaplain Frye, their beloved young com 



THE STORY OF LOVEWELL's FIGHT 143 

rade, staggered along for a sliort distance, then sank 
down to die. They divided into three parties, so 
that the Indians could not trail them. Only nine 
were nnhnrt. Eleven were snlTering from wounds 
of various kinds. Four were left along the way, the 
others promising to send men from the fort to assist 
them. 

They were cheered on the journey by the thought 
of relief and refreshment at the fort. What was 
their bitter disappointment to find, on arriving there 
after several days' journey, that it was empty. Later 
on, they found that one of their number had deserted 
at the first of the battle, terror-stricken, and had 
returned to the fort and told such terrifying stories 
that the others had fled. They left behind a birch 
bark message saying that Lovewell and all his men 
had been killed by the Indians. 

The little remnant of LovewelPs band found 
shelter, however, and a little food and after they had 
gained sufficient strength, they began to make prep- 
arations for returning home. What was their sur- 
prise to see one of their comrades whom they had 
given up as dead, coming into the fort. He had 
received several wounds but would not stay and be 
scalped by the Indians, so crawled along the shore 
of the pond until he came to a canoe, in which he 
floated down the lake to a point near the fort, to 
which he finally managed to crawl. 

Twelve of the men reached their homes in Dun- 
stable. Several days later, four others came in. 
They had had no food for four days, excepting two 
mouse squirrels and some partridges which they had 
roasted. A party was organized to go to the assist- 
ance of the men left on the way, to visit the battle- 



144 



MAINE, MY STATE 



field and to bury the dead. This party was not 
attacked by the Indians. 

The Peqnawkets never rallied from this terrible 
battle. Only twenty-four of their warriors survived 
and these sadly left their village and retreated 
toward Canada. Their spirit was broken and while 




Bronze Tablet Erected in Memory of Lovewell's Fight, on Shore 
of Lovewell's Pond 

there were other battles between the Indians and the 
white men, in other places in Maine, the reign of 
terror of the Peqnawkets was over. 

Should you visit Lovewell's Pond, a short dis- 
tance from the village of Fryeburg, on the shores of 
which this battle took place, you will find, on the 



SABASTIAN RALE 145 

battle-ground, a bronze tablet, in honor of Capt. 
Love well and his band of rangers. This was erected 
by the Society of Colonial Wars in the Common- 
wealth of Massachusetts, June 17th, 1904. 

Sometime you may motor along a part of the trail 
which these Indians traveled, and which it is very 
likely Capt. Lovewell and his rangers followed on 
some part of their journey. It is known as the 
Pequawket trail, running along the banks of the 
Saco River and into the heart of the wonderful 
White Mountain region. 

— Eva E. Shorey. 



SEBASTIAN RALE 

LONG AGO, when the Abenaki roamed the for- 
ests of Maine, there occurred in the Indian vil- 
lage of Narrantsouk or Norridgewock, events 
so tragic that poet and historian alike have told the 
tale for future generations. The village, seventy-five 
miles from the mouth of the Kennebec, was for the 
time and the race, rather pretentious. It consisted 
of a square enclosure, 160 feet on each side, walled in 
by a palisade of stout logs, nine feet in height. In 
the middle of each side was a gate, and the two 
streets connecting these gates met in an open square 
in the centre. Within this enclosure, on either side 
of the two streets, were twenty-six w^igwams, really 
huts, built of round, hewn logs, '^ after the English 
manner." Outside, only a few yards away, stood 
the chapel. It was of hewn timber, surmounted by a 
cross. The bell of that ancient church is still in 
existence, in the rooms of the Maine Historical 



146 MAINE, MY STATE 

Society, Portland. Within, the rough chapel walla 
were hung with pictures, among them the Cruci- 
fixion. The communion service was of silver plate. 
We ask why so much of order and even of beauty 
should be found in an Indian village in the forests 
of Maine. But for thirty-four years, these Indians 
had been taught by Father Sebastian Rale, a Jesuit 
priest. Whittier describes the scene most effectively. 
"On the brow of a hill which slopes to meet 
The flowing river and bathe its feet — 
The bare-washed and drooping grass, 
And the creeping vine, as the waters pass — 
A rude, unshapely chapel stands. 
Built up in that wild by unskillful hands ; 
Yet the traveler knows it's a place of prayer. 
For the holy sign of the cross is there ; 
And should he chance at that place to be, 
Of a Sabbath morn or some hallowed day, 
When prayers are made and masses said. 
Some for the living and some for the dead. 
Well might that traveler start to see 
The tall, dark forms that take their way 
From the birch canoe on the river shore 
x^nd the forest paths to that chapel door ; 
And marvel to mark the naked knees 
And the dusky foreheads bending there. 
And, stretching his long, thin arms over these 
In blessing and in prayer, 
Like a shrouded spectre, pale and tall. 
In his coarse white vesture. Father Rale. 

To add to the effectiveness of the service, a choir, 
gowned and trained, had been formed of forty of the 
braves. At dawn and again for vespers, the bell 
rang to summon these dusky worshipers to prayers. 



SEBASTIAN RALE 



147 



Father Rale, pastor of this unusual flock, was a 
Jesuit priest who had come to Canada with Fronte- 
11 ac. He was of illustrious French family, and fineh^ 
educated; but he was content to give up all that he 
might have enjoyed in France, and to suffer hardship 
unspeakable in order to teach the precepts of relig- 
ion to the Indians of the New World. 




s 



Father Rnle's Chapel 
(By Courtesy of John Francis Sprague Author of Sebastian Rale.) 



In the Abenaki village to which he was finally 
assigned, all of Rale's various acquirements were of 
use. He was carpenter, gardener, and physician, as 
Avell as priest. Nor was he less the scholar. He 
prepared a vocabulary of the Abenaki tongue that 
is now preserved in the Library of Harvard College, 
and he was at work on an Indian dictionary at tlie 
time of his tragic death. 



148 MAINE, MY STATE 

But not all of Father Rale's activities met the 
approval of his English neighbors. For one thing, 
the French claimed the Kennebec as their western 
bonndary, while the English insisted on a riv^er 
which we call the St. John, the present bonndary 
between Maine and the Dominion of Canada. They 
declared that Eale and his Indians were trespassers 
on English soil. Bnt they accused Rale also of some- 
thing worse than simple trespass. They declared 
that he was gnilty of inciting the Indians to attack 
the English settlements. It was in that period of 
bitter feeling known to ns as the French and Indian 
Wars, and, as we know, the Indians of Maine had 
been merciless in their attacks, both with and with- 
out their allies, the French. Small wonder that 
feeling in Massachusetts ran high and a price was 
set upon Rale's head. Just how far these attacks 
were due to Rale, history has not decided. Certain 
it is that the priest did translate and forward to the 
Governor of Massachusetts the Abenaki's declara- 
tion of their right, as first settlers, to the land they 
dwelt upon and hunted over. 

In 1723, matters came to a crisis. After a series 
of blood-thirsty raids by the Indians, an expedition 
under the leadership of Captain Moulton of York 
was sent to Norridgewock to seize the hitherto elu- 
sive priest. This expedition failed in making the 
capture. Though the English surprised the Indian 
village. Rale escaped, and the only trophy Moulton 
could bring back was the priest's strong box. This 
contained, among other papers, correspondence with 
the Governor of Canada that showed Rale to be to 
some extent responsible for the outbreaks against the 
English. Doubtless Rale thought himself justified, 










Father Rale's Strong Box 




Bell from the Indian Chapel 

Now in the Possession of the Maine Historical Society 



150 MAINE, MY STATE 

because of tlie possible peril to his mission at the 
hands of the English Puritans. 

In August, 1724, a second expedition, commanded 
by Captains Moulton and Harmon, ascended the 
river. On the way they saw three Indians and sliot 
at them. One, who proved to be the noted chieftain, 
Bombassen, was killed; the other two, his wife and 
daughter, were taken prisoners. 
"Bomazon from Tacconock 

Has sent his runners to Norridgewock, 

With tidings that Moulton and Harmon of York 

Far up the river have come ; 

They have left their boats — they have entered the wood, 

And filled the depths of the solitude 

With the sound of the ranger's drum." 

So wrote the poet Whittier of their approach. 
But, in actual fact, so silent and swift was the 
advance, due to information extorted from the cap- 
tive wife of Bombassen, that the Indian village was 
surrounded and surprised. 

At the first volley, the Indians rushed from their 
wigwams, fired, but too high, and fell in confusion 
before the better-aimed English bullets. No more 
than sixty warriors were in the village at this time. 
These, in spite of the odds, for the English force is 
variously estimated at from two hundred and eighty 
to eleven hundred, did their best to the last to cover 
the retreat of the old men, the women and children. 
Many of these were caught in the river, as they 
attempted to cross, and were slaughtered. 

Rale fearlessly presented himself to his assail- 
ants, hoping to gain some measure of protection for 
his people, but in vain. He fell, shot through the 
head, and the few braves who had endeavored to 



SEBASTIAN RALE 151 

protect him shared his fate. Among the slain was 
Mogg, an old and famous chieftain. The rangers 
burned and plundered, then retreated down the val- 
ley with their burden of scalps. 

Father Rale's mutilated body was tenderly 
buried by the remnant of his sorrowing people; but 
the strength of the Norridgewocks was broken. The 
few survivors of the tribe sought other hunting 
grounds, and Narrantsouk was left desolate. 
**No wigwam's smoke is curHng there ; 
The very earth is scorched and bare, 
They pass and listen to catch a sound 
Of breathing Hfe, but there comes not one, 
Save the foxes' bark and the rabbit's bound." 

In 1833, a monument was erected to the memory 
of Father Rale on the site of the chapel where he had 
ministered to his savage converts. It consists of a 
granite shaft, eleven feet high, on a base five feet in 
]i eight. The whole is surmounted by an iron cross. 
On one side an inscription is cut in Latin. Trans- 
lated, it reads: 

*^Rev. Sebastian Rale, a French Jesuit mission- 
ary, for many years the first evangelist among the 
Illinois and Hurons, and afterwards for thirty-four 
years a true apostle in the faith and love of Christ, 
among the Abenakis, — unterrified by danger, and 
often by his pure excellent character giving witness 
that he was prepared for death, this most excellent 
pastor, on the 23d day of August, 1724, fell in this 
place, at the time of the destruction and slaughter of 
the town of Norridgewock, and the dangers to his 
church. To him, and to his children, dead in Christ, 
Benedict Fenwick, Bishop at Boston, has erected and 
dedicated this monument, this 23d day of August, 
A.D. 1833." — Henrietta Toiler Totman. 



152 MAINE, MY STATE 



SOME MAPLE SUGAR 

T >^ IN(j PHILIP, second son of Massasoit, and the 
r\ most remarkable of all the New England 

\ Indians, was dead; bnt ^^King Philip's" war 
w^ent on. For after his death in the Rhode Island 
swamp fortress on that August night in 1676, many 
of his warriors fled to the Province of Maine and 
joined the Abnaki Indians in their efforts to annihi- 
late some six thousand white settlers, whose hamlets 
or isolated cabins clung tenaciously to the coast and 
the mouths of the principal rivers. The tomahawk 
and torch threw a deadly blight over the land. 

The Wells settlement was constantly harrassed. 
The xlbnaki, thanks to Baron de Saint-Castin, were 
well equipped for war; and the sturdy home-makers 
were in despair as the planting season drew near and 
there was no surcease in the vigilance of the red foe. 
Yet despite the horrors of the predatory warfare 
paralyzing the land, the two Haskins boys, William 
and John, and Abner Grover, their chum, were 
determined to enjoy life. The three were accus 
tonied to pioneering and accepted savages as a part 
of the daily routine. 

Like all lads they had a *' sweet tooth." Their 
daily diet consisted of game and fish and, in season, 
a few vegetables. When Indian raids interfered 
with hunting, the family existed on short rations of 
the coarsest foods. The one relief from the monot- 
onous menu was afforded by the delicious maple 
syrup and maple sugar. 

The spring following King Philip's death 
brought ideal weather conditions for ^'sapping"; 



SOME MAPLE SUGAR 153 

clear, cold nights and bright, mild days. As the 
bo3'S gathered in Abner's home, Natnre coaxed and 
called them to visit the maple grove a mile away. 
Imagine their delight when Mr. Haskins came in and 
announced to his family and the Grovers that he had 
made a wide circuit to the north and east without 
finding a single sign of an Indian. 

The following day, to their great joy. Captain 
Petts, a veteran of Indian wars, returned from mak- 
ing a wide reconnaissance and confidently reported 
the Indians had left the vicinity of Wells. To clinch 
this reassuring news, a messenger arrived from 
Portsmouth with word that the Indians had 
expressed a willingness to talk peace with the Eng- 
lish commissioners. 

With a shout, Abner sped away to find his friends 
and impart the great news. * ^ Now we can go to the 
brook and tap the maples, ' ' he exulted. 

However, the boys bided their time until one day 
Mr. Haskins and Mr. Grover held an earnest consul- 
tation with the other men. 

^^Boys," abruptly called out Abner 's father, 
^'your elders have decided that you may go to the 
grove to boil sap. You^re to start for home each 
afternoon in time to arrive here before sun-down. 
Some of us will try to come to meet you. Every 
other da}^ one of us will range between the grove 
and the Big Woods, and should you hear a gun-shot, 
you're to drop your work and make for home. You 
will take two guns with you and you're not to fire 
them unless you see Indians." 

Early the next morning the boys tied a big kettle 
to a home-made sled and lashed on the settlement's 
available supply of buckets and wooden spouts, or 



154 MAINE, MY STATE 

spiles. Long before tliey arrived at the brook tliey 
had apportioned the work. William was to tap the 
trees with John arranging the spouts and buckets. 
Abner was to hang the kettle on a green sapling, 
suspended between two forked posts, and clean out 
the small log shed, built two years before. All three 
were to turn to and accumulate the necessary fuel. 

The grove followed the brook for two miles, end- 
ing at a wide opening. Beyond this opening the Big 
Woods began. Long before it was time to eat their 
mid-day lunch, the buckets were in place, the shed 
cleaned and enough wood for a day piled near the 
kettle. 

Notwithstanding their display of unconcern, the 
boys each experienced the same emotion when be- 
holding the mighty expanse of the Big Woods; a fear 
of the unknown, the sensation of being watched by 
malignant eyes. This depression quickly vanished, 
however, once the flames began crackling and John 
commenced calling out there were several inches of 
sap in each bucket. Lugging the kettle between them 
they made the rounds, and after drinking in turn, 
they placed what was left over the fire to boil. This 
was ^'finished off" late in the afternoon and care- 
fully poured into a bucket. 

At the end of the week no one in Wells felt there 
was danger of a surprise attack ; and it was voted to 
keep all the men at work for the next three days. 
Two days without scout protection passed unevent- 
fully, but on the third, the glorious weather changed 
and the boys knew a storm was brewing and that it 
might be necessary to do the boiling in the shed. 
The wind was from the north and carried a keen 
edge. 



SOME MAPLE SUGAR 155 

*'If it starts snowing today we'd better go home 
early," said Abner. ''Some men from Portsmouth 
are on the way and I want to be there when they 
eome. The storm will hurry them up." 

Arrived at the grove, John, with his usual exu- 
berance, started to examine the buckets and William 
whittled some shavings from a pine stick prepara- 
tory to starting the fire. For some reason unknown 
even by himself, Abner was downcast ; when William 
finished pouring the sap into the kettle and began 
rallying him for not aiding in the work, he started 
convulsively and stared with wide eyes at something 
at the end of the shed. It was scarcely discernible 
in the clutter of tracks left by the boys, and yet it had 
not been there up to the time of their leaving the day 
before. 

William chattered on. Abner glared at the alien 
foot-print. No settlement foot-gear had left that 
impress, it was made by an Abnaki moccasin. 
Slowly lifting his head and endeavoring to conceal 
his alarm, he swept his gaze about in a circle. He 
fully expected to behold dark forms flitting towards 
them through the maples; and his heart thumped 
rapidly as he saw little John making towards the 
north end of the line of buckets. 

Picking up two buckets he gave them to William 
and said, ''Put those in the shed for me." William 
was a bit puzzled but stepped inside. Abner halted 
in the door, and now that no lurking savage could 
observe his friend's alarm he quickly explained, 
"IVe seen Injun tracks. Don't make a sound. 
AVhistle something. If they're watching, they 
mustn't know we suspect. Straighten out your face. 
Now listen; you must come out and get John and tell 



156 MAINE, MY STATE 

him to help you bring sap from the other end of the 
line. Act careless until yon get to the opening — 
then run for your lives and warn the settlement. 
Now, come out. '^ 

^'But youf" huskily whispered William, a terri- 
ble fear creeping into his eyes. 

^'If we all leave they will suspect something. 
I'll stay and give you two a start. I'll keep both 
guns as you're to run, not fight. Get John now but 
don't let him know." 

William ran after his brother, but John was loatli 
to turn back. Then William made a snow-ball and 
threw it and challenged the youngster to catch him. 
This bait was irresistible and John started in full 
pursuit. Abner by the fire cheered them on, crying, 
"Catch him, John! You can catch him!" He saw 
John make a rush which William easily eluded. 
Then they passed behind some trees and were out of 
sight. 

Overhead the gray clouds w^ere racing towards 
the sea. The wind began spitting snow. The boy 
felt strangely alone and helpless. The sap was bub- 
bling. He piled on more fuel until the syrup boiled. 
Still believing he was being watched, he began piling 
the fuel in tiers, whistling as he worked. Entering 
the shed, he peeped through a crack between the 
logs. He gave a little choking cry as he saw three 
bowed figures approaching the rear of the shed. 
They came on in a zig-zag, darting from tree to tree. 
He snatched up one of the guns but at once realized 
it would be useless for him to fire at such elusive tar- 
gets. Then, before he could prepare for it, the three 
warriors were at the back of the shed to spy upon 
him. 



SOME MAPLE SUGAR 157 

Abner felt his lips tremble but managed to 
resume his whistling. He knew their sharp eyes 
were following every movement he made. Ignoring 
the guns he stepped to the door, and, in doing so 
made snre that the bar w^as in place. He believed 
the Indians wonld come around the corner and seize 
him, and to prevent this he called ont, as though 
hailing the boys, and waved his hand and beckoned 
them to join him. He hoped the Indians would be 
deceived and remain quiet, thinking to bag three 
instead of one. 

No sound came from the rear of the shed. The 
sap boiled over and gave Abner an inspiration. 
Drawing on his mittens of deer-skin, he seized the 
bail, removed the kettle and placed it on the piled-up 
fuel. He had made the tier some three feet high, 
and by standing upon it he believed he could attack 
the enemy in a surprising fashion. Leaping up beside 
the kettle he seized it with both hands, and with a 
mighty effort of his strong, young arms, hurled it 
over the edge of the sloping roof. 

As he leaped to the ground and jumped through 
the doorway, pandemonium broke out back of the 
shed. AVith horrible screeches the three savages 
plunged into the snow to ease the pains of the scald- 
ing sap. Their clamor was answered by wild war- 
whoops deep in the grove. Abner closed the door, 
made it fast and stepped to a small loop-hole with 
one of the guns. Three dark forms were groaning 
and writhing in the snow close by. Other figures, 
but vaguely visible because of the gathering storm, 
were rapidly drawing near. Aiming at these he 
fired, snatched up the second gun and fired again, 
then hurriedlv reloaded. 



158 MAINE, MY STATE 

Instantly the woods became deathly qniet except 
for the noise of the storm. The scalded Indians 
vanished with the first shot. The boy knew they 
were circling the cabin, bnt so adroitly did they 
maneuver that he caught no glimpse of them. Then 
there came a crashing volley, followed b}^ the cheers 
of white men. In another minute his father was 
shouting his name. He threw open the door and 
stepped out and beheld not only the settlers but a 
score of strangers; and he knew they were the men 
from Portsmouth. "Whatever might have been the 
designs of the Indians, they were not seen again, 
although their trail was followed for many miles 
towards the Kennebec. 

— Hugh Pendexter, 



Maine 

You're just a rugged, homespun State 

Perched on the nation's edge, 
A stretch of woods, of fields and lakes. 

Of ocean-pounded ledge. 
But rugged deeds and rugged men 

You've nurtured for your own : 
Much good the world has harvested 

From broadcast seeds you've sown — 
And so, we love you, rugged State, 

We love your smiling skies, 
We love you for your deep-piled snows, 

Your jagged coast we prize. 
We love you for the lofty seat 

You've reared 'neath heaven's dome : 
But best of all, we love you, Maine, 

Because you're Maine — and Home ! 

— Lester Melchcr Hart. 



REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD 



THE SOLDIER BOY OF THE REVOLUTION 

WHO WHIPPED THE FUTURE KING 

OF ENGLAND 

IT WAS the Slimmer of 1774. The Royal George, 
the flagship of the line, had weighed anchor in 

the smilit harbor and, with all sails set, was 
speeding gaily toward England with her freight of 
Revolutionary war prisoners in irons. This was the 
same Royal George, the man-of-war of one hundred 
and eight guns that, on August 28, 1782, went down 
while refitting at Spithead. Under strain of shifting 
her guns, she keeled over and sank with her com- 
mander. Admiral Kampenfeldt, and nearly one 
thousand soldiers, marines, visitors, and the usual 
crew. 

The prisoners, whom we see at the time our story 
opens, taking their airing on deck, were captured on 
board a privateer which had been doing much dam- 
age to the King's ships. They were the most note- 
worthy men on board, unless we except the young 
heir apparent to the English throne, the Duke of 
Clarence, son of George III., or, as he was more 
familiarly called by both English and Americans, 
^ ' The Young Midshipman. ' ' 

According to the usual custom in royal families, 
he was serving his apprenticeship in the King's 
Navy under the tutelage of the best of admirals, in 
order to become familiar with danger and acquire 
the courage requisite for the duties that might come 

159 



160 MAINE, MY STATE 

to him later in his career as King of England. He 
afterwards did become king, on the death of his 
father, nnder the title of William IV. His short 
reign immediately preceded the long and glorions 
reign of Qneen Victoria, his niece and next of kin, in 
the line of British sovereigns. 

We left the prisoners in irons, on the deck nnder 
the scornfnl eyes of the whole ship's crew. Behind 
them, growing more and more indistinct in the dis- 
tance, were the primeval forests of the New World. 
They conld still discern in the strong sunlight the 
King's arrow glistening on the trunk of many a 
sturdy tree. The King's arrow! How many things 
of value it used to claim and set apart for the reign- 
ing majesty! Now it is seen nowhere except on the 
coarse, green, prison garb. 

Presently the strong young voice of the Duke of 
Clarence could be heard speaking insolently of the 
''rebels" and the land of the rebels, they were 
leaving behind. 

Young Nathan Lord, a rebel and a leader of 
rebels, like the brave hero that he was, turned as 
quickly as his shackles would permit, and said, ''If 
it were not for your rank. Sir, I would make you 
take that back." 

''No matter about my rank," said the royal 
middy, "I am ready to fight. If you can whip me, 
you are welcome to. ' ' 

So "standing over a tea-chest," as the tradition 
has it, "they had a famous fight, with nobody to 
interfere," for the English, whatever may be their 
faults, do love fair play — and Nathan Lord, a youth 
from Berwick, won. 

The royal middy shook hands, admitted that he 



"the LEXINGTON OF THE SEAS" 161 

was fairly beaten, asked Lord 's name and home and 
promised not to forget him. The sequel proves that 
the word of the next King of England was as good 
as gold and would be honored always at its face 
value. 

When they reached England and anchored in the 
harbor which was their destination, all the pris- 
oners of war were marched to prison to join other 
earlier captives in the war. There was one excep- 
tion — Nathan Lord. He was summoned by the 
Admiral, who told him that his Grace, the Duke of 
Clarence, son of his Majesty, the King of England, 
begged his pardon and had left a five pound note at 
his disposal, which he was free to use to take him 
home to the Colonies, for his Grace could never think 
of holding, as a prisoner of war, a man who could 
whip him. 

The brave, sturdy Berwick boy lost no time in 
getting home and joining his blessed rebels, with 
whom he did good service. The following year he 
joined Benedict Arnold ^s famous expedition to Que- 
bec. He died there in 1775 in young manhood, not 
as he would have chosen, in battle line, his face to 
the foe, but from wasting disease, contracted in a 
noisome, polluted prison. 

-Fanny E. Lord. 



''THE LEXINGTON OF THE SEAS" 

ON THE nineteenth day of April, 1775, the 
intrepid farmers of Lexington fired the ' ' shot 
heard around the world,'' and on the twelfth 
day of June, five days before the battle of Bunker 



162 MAINE, MY STATE 

Hill, a sturdy Irishman on the easterly coast of the 
province of Maine, with a handful of brave lum- 
bermen, river-drivers, farmers and sailors, their 
hearts burning with the same flame of patriotism, 
successfully fought the first naval battle of the 
American Revolution, captured the first British war 
vessel, was the first to haul down the British flag and 
bring to death the first of her captains of the sea, in 
that great conflict for human rights. 

One whose name will be forever interwoven with 
the story of that stirring event was Capt. Ichabod 
Jones. In 1765 he was a ship-master living in Bos- 
ton. During that summer he made a trip in a 
schooner, eastward, stopping at Mount Desert. 
While in that port he learned of the Machias settle- 
ment and went there, where he disposed of his cargo 
to good advantage, loaded his vessel with lumber and 
returned to Boston. 

He made other voyages from Boston to Machias 
and subsequently entered into a partnership with 
Benjamin Foster and others and built a saw mill. 
All this time he was in command of one or two 
vessels engaged in the lumber trade between 
Machias and Boston. 

He did an increasing and thrifty business until 
1774 when the English Parliament passed the ''Bos- 
ton Port Bill" which prohibited merchandise of any 
kind from being landed at, or shipped from wharves 
of Boston. 

The spring of 1775 found him at Machias, loading 
his two sloops, the Unity and the Polly, with lum- 
ber; but giving Captain Horton of the Polly orders 
to touch at Salem and Cape Ann instead of Boston 



"the LEXINGTON OF THE SEAS " 163 

for a market, and, failing there, to proceed to some 
port in Connecticnt. 

On arriving at Salem Captain Horton fonnd the 
whole coast in an nproar and ready for almost any- 
thing except trade and lumber, so he put into the 
port of Boston where he met Captain Jones. These 
two then concluded to return at once to Machias with 
their families, their own household goods and also a 
quantity of merchandise for the people there who 
had become in a great measure destitute by reason 
of the unsettled state of business. In order to leave 
Boston Harbor, Captain Jones was obliged to have a 
permit from Admiral Graves, granted only upon 
condition that he return from Machias to Boston 
with lumber which the British desired to purchase 
for barracks for troops, and he also must submit to 
making the trip under the protection of an armed 
schooner, the ^^Margaretta." 

Captain Jones feared the ire of the Machias 
patriots v/hen they should discover him in their port 
under the protection of the English flag. However, 
the two sloops, convoyed by the armed Margaretta 
flying the British flag, sailed into Machias Harbor, 
June 2, 1775. 

For some time past the inhabitants had been 
lounging around the shores and wharves, waiting 
and watching for the return of Captain Jones' sloops 
with the much-needed provisions. 

Their feelings of consternation may be imagined 
when they discovered that their friend of the seas, 
wliose coming for days they had awaited with anx- 
ious hearts, was escorted by a British war vessel 
flying the hated British flag. Whether they had 
knowledge that the Massachusetts patriots had 



34 



MAINE, MY STATE 



begun a revolution before Captain Horton informed 
tliem, or not, they certainly knew it then and the fire 
of revolt was kindling in their breasts. 

Exactly what was the final cause for the battle 
which ensued is somewhat uncertain. Perhaps the 




Burnham Tavern, Machias 

Where Plans were Made to Capture the Margaretta and the Two Sloops 



citizens of Machias feared that the lumber then being 
loaded on Jones' sloops was intended for the use of 
the British troops, and were determined that the 
Polly and Unity should never return to Boston with 
their cargoes. However, after due deliberation in 
open town meeting, it had been voted to pernait this 



**THE LEXINGTON OF THE SEAS" 165 

to be done and it is probable that the permission 
would have been carried out in good faith had not 
the captain of the Margaretta unnecessarily pro- 
voked a quarrel with the inhabitants in ordering 
them to take down their liberty pole; for the people 
of Machias had done what hundreds of other little 
communities throughout the colonies were doing, 
erected a ^'Liberty Pole." This was a tall, straight 
pine tree with a tuft of verdure at the top, the best 
emblem they had at command of the flag for w^iich 
they desired to fight, live and die. 

One thing is certain, the culmination of their sus- 
picions, fears and apprehensions resulted in the 
formation of a plan to prevent the return of the 
sloops to Boston, laden with lumber. 

Benjamin Foster and Morris O'Brien and his 
sons, with some others, favored taking possession of 
the partly laden sloops of Captain Jones and making 
prisoners of the officers and men. While their coun- 
sels were divided, Foster and the O'Briens finalty 
prevailed. It is said that Foster, weary of debate, 
crossed a stream known as the O'Brien brook, near 
which they were standing and called out to all who 
favored the capture of the Margaretta and the two 
sloops to follow him, and in a few moments every 
man stood by his side. 

A plan of attack immediately was agreed upon. 
This was on Sunday, June 11, 1775. It was known 
that the English officers would attend the religious 
services of good Parson Lyon in the meeting-house 
that morning and it was decided to surround the 
church and seize them during the services. Before 
the meeting opened they had quietly secreted their 
arms in the building, John O'Brien hiding his mus- 



166 MAINE, MY STATE 

ket under a board and taking liis seat on a bench 
directly behind Captain Moore, ready to seize him 
at the first alarm. This well-prepared scheme would 
undoubtedly have been successful if they had taken 
the ne^Toes of the community, or at least one of 
them, into their confidence. 

London Atus was a colored man, the body servant 
of Parson Lyon, and, while the parson himself and 
about every other member of the congregation, 
except the intended victims themselves, had knowl- 
edge or suspicion of what was afoot, Atus was 
entirely innocent of the dynamic atmosphere about 
him. From his hiding place in the negro pew he 
could see armed men, Foster 's band, crossing a foot- 
bridge and coming toward the meeting-house. He 
gave an outcry and leaped from the window, wild 
Vvdth excitement. This broke up the meeting and 
the officers, believing that an attempt was being 
made to entrap them, followed the example of the 
negro and made their escape. 

They hastened to their vessel and by the time 
Foster's force reached the meeting-house they were 
aboard their vessel and weighing anchor, and Jones, 
who was to have been made a prisoner, fled to the 
woods where he remained secreted for several days. 

They then resolved to seize Jones' sloops and pur- 
sue the cutter. One of these, the Polly, was not in 
available condition, but they took possession of the 
Unity, and during the remainder of Sunday and that 
night, made preparations for the attack. They sent 
scouts to the East River village and neighboring 
plantations for volunteers, arms and ammunition. 

A messenger was dispatched to Chandler's river 
to procure powder and balls and as the men of that 



"the LEXINGTON OE THE SEAS*' 167 

Settlement were all absent two girls, Hannah and 
Rebecca Weston, nineteen and seventeen years old, 
procured forty pounds of powder and balls and 
brought them to Machias, a distance of twenty miles, 
through the woods, following a line of blazed oi' 
"spotted" trees, but did not arrive there until after 
the battle was over. 

In the early dawn of the following morning, June 
12th, the expedition started down the river in pursuit 
of the Margaretta. The crew of the Unity numbered 
about forty, and one-half of these had muskets with 
only about three rounds of ammunition; the rest 
armed themselves with pitchforks, axes, heavy 
mauls, etc. For provisions they had a small bag of 
bread, a few pieces of pork and a barrel of water. 
They chose Jeremiah O'Brien as captain and 
Edmund Stevens, lieutenant. Understanding that 
they had no powder to waste, they determined to 
bear down on the enemy's ship, board her and decide 
the conquest at once. 

The Unity was well into the bay when the Mar- 
garetta was first sighted off Round Island and, 
being the more rapid sailer, was soon along her side. 
The helmsman of the Margaretta, who was Captain 
Robert Avery, had fallen from a shot fired by an old 
moose hunter by the name of Knight, on board the 
Unity, and an immediate volley of musketry from 
her deck astonished and demoralized the enemy. 
The bowsprit of the Unity plunged into the Mar- 
garetta 's mainsail, holding the two vessels together 
for a short time. While they were in this posi- 
tion, one of the 'Brien brothers, John, sprang upon 
the Margaretta 's deck, but the vessels suddenly 
parted, carrying the audacious John alone on board 



168 Maine, my s^ate 

the British vessel. It is said that seven of her crew 
instantly aimed and fired mnskets at him, but he 
remained nnscratched. They then charged upon him 
with their bayonets and again he escaped by plung- 
ing overboard and amidst a storm of bullets from the 
enemy, regained his own vessel. 

Captain O'Brien then ordered his sloop along- 
side of the Margaretta. Twenty of his crew were 
selected to board her, armed with pitchforks, and a 
hand-to-hand conflict on her deck resulted in the sur- 
render of the Margaretta to the Americans, and Jer- 
emiah 'Brien hauled down the British ensign flying 
at her masthead. 

At about sunset the Unity returned, proudly sail- 
ing up the bay and river to Machias village with her 
valuable prize, reaching the wharf amid tumultuous 
cheering and shouting of the people. They made a 
hero of Captain Jeremiah O'Brien, as he certainly 
deserved for his brilliant achievement, and the 
rejoicing continued until long past midnight. The 
news of O'Brien's brilliant victory was heralded 
throughout the land and it had a great effect in stim- 
ulating the colonists everywhere to emulate his 
example. — John Francis Sprague. 

Note: So far as kno"wn, J. Fenimore Cooper, in "The 
History of the Navy of the United States." was the 
first ^vriter to apply the name "Lexington of the 
Seas" to this battle. — J. F. S. 

GENERAL HENRY KNOX 

PASSENGERS on the Rockland division of the 
Maine Central Railroad, passing through the 
quaint little hamlet of Thomaston, may 
observe on the brick wall of the railroad station, a 
tablet, bearing an inscription to the effect that this 
structure was built by General Knox in 1793. This 




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170 MAINE, MY STATE 

building was known as the ^'farm house" a century 
and a quarter ago, when Gen. Knox and his family 
lived in state at ''Montpelier, " a beautiful mansion, 
then the pride of Thomaston. 

Situated on the crest of a hill near the river 
Georges, the mansion commanded a fine view down 
to the sea. The group of buildings was in the form 
of a large crescent, sloping back from the river, the 
mansion in the center and nine buildings on either 
side, including the farm house, stables and out-build- 
ings. The mansion itself was a wonderful structure 
for those times. It had a basement of brick and two 
stories built of wood; a fourth story, a sort of cupola 
in the center, had a glass roof. Double piazzas 
extended on all sides of the mansion. The railings 
and columns enclosing these and the balconies dis- 
played a great deal of fine work and skilful hand- 
carving. We can only imagine the original grand- 
eur of '^Montpelier, " because many of the outward 
decorations had been removed before the first 
picture was taken. 

The interior was decorated and furnished in a 
style unique for those primitive days. The wall 
papers resembled^tapestry. The background of the 
hall paper was buff-colored. On the wall at the side 
of the wide stairway were large, embossed, brown 
paper figures of men carrying guns. On the library 
paper were pictures of ladies, reading. Here was 
Gen. Knox's collection of books, nearly sixteen hun- 
died volumes. In the reception room, at the center 
of the mansion, was a portrait of Gen. Knox by Gil- 
bert Stuart. A part of the furniture came from 
France. Mrs. Knox's piano was the first in that 
res'ion. The Knox Street of todav was Gen. Knox's 



GENERAL HENRY KNOX 171 

driveway. It opened from Main Street by a large 
gate surmounted by a carved figure of the American 
eagle. 

Gen. Knox moved his family to "Montpelier'^ 
from Philadelphia in June, 1795. On July 4th, the 
doors of the mansion were opened wide that all who 
wished might meet the famous general, and view the 
splendors of his new and elegant home. His coming 
wrought much of change in the quiet life of Thomas- 
ton. "Montpelier" came to be noted for its lavish 
hospitality. 

"Oh, welcome was the silken garb, but welcome was the 
blouse, 
When Knox was lord of half of Maine and kept an open 
house." 
Once General Knox had for his guests the entire 
tribe of Tarratine or Penobscot Indians, who enjoyed 
their visit and the bountiful repasts provided for 
them so well that they stayed for weeks. Indeed, 
they did not seem to think of going home at all, until 
the General said to the chief, ''Now we have had a 
good visit and you had better go home." 

Gen. Knox's estate included the greater part of 
what was known as the Waldo patent, originally the 
property of Mrs. Knox's grandfather, Gen. Samuel 
Waldo of Massachusetts. This land, lying between 
the Penobscot and Kennebec rivers, included nearly 
all of what is now comprised in the counties of Knox, 
Waldo, Penobscot and Lincoln. Gen. Knox had 
come into possession of this vast territory, partly 
through his wife's inheritance and partly by pur- 
chase. He planned to live here and develop the nat- 
ural resources. 



172 MAINE, MY STATE 

He began at once to set np saw-mills, lime-kilns, 
marble qnarries and brick yards; he also constructed 
vessels, locks and dams. He converted Brigadier's 
Island into a stock farm, where he kept cattle and 
sheep impoirted from other countries. All these 
various enterprises gave employment to a large num- 
ber of workmen, and caused a boom in the trade and 
commerce of Thomaston. 

Although Gen. Knox was a fine soldier and had 
proved himself well versed in military tactics, he 
was without experience in any of the industries in 
which he now engaged. Disputes about the bound- 
aries of the islands in the Waldo patent caused him 
to enter into costly lawsuits. The expense of carry- 
ing on so many kinds of business proved too heavy a 
drain on his resources and he became deeply in- 
volved in debt. Had he lived longer, he might have 
been able to overcome his financial difficulties, but 
that was not to be. 

One day while eating dinner, he happened to 
swallow a small, sharp piece of chicken-bone. This 
lodged in such a manner as to cause him great suffer- 
ing, ending in his death on October 25, 1806, at the 
age of fifty-six years. 

Mrs. Knox spent her remaining years quietly at 
^ ^ Montpelier. ' ' As there were no funds available 
for repairs, the mansion gradually lost much of its 
former glory. After the death of Mrs. Knox in 1824, 
the estate was for several years in the hands of dif- 
ferent members of the family. 

When the Knox & Lincoln Railroad was built in 
1871, it passed between the mansion and the ser- 
vants' quarters. The mansion was then sold for 
$4,000 and torn down. The executor tried to sell to 



GENERAL HENRY KNOX 173 

some one who would preserve it, but no one seemed 
to consider the historical value of the place. 

Of course, we are interested to learn where Gen. 
Knox lived when he was a boy, and something of his 
life during the years given to his country's service. 
In his boyhood Henry Knox lived with his parents 
on Sea Street in Boston. He was fond of outdoor 
sports and was frequently chosen as leader by his 
playmates. But his school days were soon over. 
When he was twelve years old his father died, and 
Henry took upon himself the support of his mother 
and younger brother. He left the grammar school 
and went to w^ork in a book store. His education did 
not end, however, for he studied by himself at odd 
moments from the books at the store. He was much 
interested in military matters and his studies were 
chiefly along that line. He learned to speak and 
write the French language, an accomplishment 
which proved useful in later years, when he came 
to meet Lafayette and other French generals of our 
ally across the water. He also took time for thorough 
drill in a military company. 

When he was twenty-one years old, Henry Knox 
went into business for himself, opening '^The Lon- 
don Book-Store" in Cornhill, Boston. Later he 
added book-binding to his business. 

He had been in business only a few years when 
he felt that his country needed him and he did not 
hesitate to offer himself. A watch had been kept on 
the movements of Knox and of others who were 
known to be in sjmipathy with the colonists, and they 
were forbidden to leave the city. But, on the night 
of April 19, 1775, Knox disguised himself, and, 
accompanied by his wife, quietly left his home. Mrs, 



174 MAINE, MY STATE 

Knox had his sword concealed in the lining of her 
cloak. Knox went to the headquarters of Gen. Arte- 
mus Ward in Cambridge and volunteered his 
services. 

One of his first assignments was to help in pre- 
paring for the siege of Boston. More siege guns 
were urgently needed but there seemed to be no way 
of procuring them. " An idea came to the resourceful 
mind of Knox. Our forces under Ethan Allen had 
taken possession of a large supply of ordnance at 
Fort Ticonderoga captured May 10, 1775. Knox's 
idea was to transport that artillery, by the crude 
methods of those times, hundreds of miles across 
lakes, rivers and mountain ranges from Ticonderoga 
to the Heights of Dorchester. After thinking it over 
carefully Gen. Washington gave his consent to the 
plan. 

Knox carried the undertaking to a successful 
conclusion and arrived in camp with the guns early 
in February. With this reinforcement of artillery, 
it did not take long for our army to persuade the 
British that Boston was too hot a place for them. 
On March 17, 1776, the British general, Howe, and 
his troops sailed away to Halifax. 

On Nov. 17, 1775, Congress gave to Henry Knox 
the rank of Colonel and appointed him chief of the 
artillery of the army. His commission did not reach 
him, however, until after his return from Ticon- 
deroga. 

We hear of Col. Knox again and again and 
always as pushing forward. He encouraged the 
hardy soldiers on tliat bleak and stormy Christmas 
night when they were crossing the Delaware River 
amid cakes of floating ice, while hailstones beat upon 




General Henry Knox 



176 MAINE, MY STATE 

their backs. Gen. Wasliington gave much credit to 
CoL Knox for the victory won by our troops at Tren- 
ton the next day, Dec. 26, 1776. He was now made a 
brigadier-general, with the entire command of the 
artillery. 

After the surrender of Cornwallis at Yorktown, 
October 19, 1781, Gen. Washington complimented 
Gen. Knox on his skill in handling the artillery. 
On the recommendation of Gen. Washington, Knox 
was promoted to the rank of major-general dating 
from November 15, 1781. 

The war over. Gen. Knox returned to Boston. 
On March 8, 1785, he was elected by Congress to fill 
the office of Secretary of War. Secretary Knox and 
his family moved, soon after, to New York, at that 
time the seat of the national government. 

In 1789, President Washington re-appointed 
Knox to the office of Secretary of War. The man- 
agement of the army, the navy, then in its beginning, 
and Indian affairs, were all in the hands of Secretary 
Knox. He influenced Congress to order the building 
of six frigates, the keels of which were laid during 
his term of office. One of these was the ^'Constitu- 
tion" or ''Old Ironsides.'* 

After having served his country faithfully for 
nearly twenty years, Secretary Knox decided to 
withdraw from public life and devote himself to his 
family. He resigned at the close of the year 1794. 
Before this he had ordered the building of an elegant 
mansion on his estate in the District of Maine, to 
which, as we have said, he moved his family in 1795. 

— Mrs. John O. Widher. 



FROM THE LIPS OF ZILPAH 



177 



FROM THE LIPS OF ZILPAH 
Part I. A Live Hero 



] It was the dusk hour 
of a winter ^s afternoon 
in the year 1818. Port- 
land had been shrouded 
in snow all through 
the twenty-four hours 
and now the wind 
dashed the glistening 
snowfiakes against the 
leaded panes, making 
the big room, lighted 
only by the warm glow 
of the logs burning 
in the great fireplace, 
^ seem a very cosy, shel- 
tered spot. 

A lad approaching 
twelve, lying on the 
i ■ . thick hearth rug, 

L.i.^.*. .^^^ .^.^- .^^:^^^^^^ „ ._„ ] pushed his book wear- 
ily aside. It was really 
too dark to see to read. 
His blue eyes gleamed with an inner glow, while his 
thoughts followed Ulj^sses on his homeward jour- 
ney to Ithaca, where Penelope sat knitting, as do the 
Red Cross women of today. 

He heard his mother's soft footfall on the broad 
stair and, with innate courtesy, pulled the big, 
winged chair nearer the fire-side and, with a touch of 




General Peleg Wadsworth 



178 MAINE, MY STATE 

the long poker, urged the stout hickory logs to a 
warmer cheer. 

'' Mother, '^ said he, ^4f I only knew a real hero, 
I should be so happy. Horatius and Aeneas lived so 
long ago. Are there no heroes now*?" 

''Why, Henry, of course there are. I know one 
well,'' she answered with a lurking smile. 

' ' I mean a live hero who has done great deeds, ' ' 
persisted the eager boy. 

*'Yes, a real live one, who is in this house at this 
very moment," and Zilpah Longfellow drew her 
slender, little son down beside her in the big chair, 
sufficiently roomy for them both. She brushed back 
his yellow locks and looked into his eyes for the 
dawning recognition of her meaning. A fire grew 
in his glance, his hands clasped hers in his intent- 
ness. 

''Mother, do you, can you, mean my very own 
grandpa?" rushed to his childish lips. 

"Yes, dear lad, Peleg Wadsworth, gentleman, 
scholar and hero, my father and your grandfather. 
Do not make the grave mistake, my son, of thinking 
that physical courage or great strength alone makes 
a hero. The true hero has natural courtesy, tender- 
ness and nobility of soul combined with courage and 
strength. Nestle here beside me, even if you are 
mother's big boy, while I tell you how my father 
happened to be one of the heroes of '76. We will 
call it the Story of Peleg. I will tell it as if you had 
never heard of such a man. 

Part II. Story of Peleg 

After graduating from Harvard at an early age, 
as was his custom Peleg Wadsworth taught school 



FROM THE LIPS OF ZILPAH 179 

in Plymouth. Even in those days he believed that 
every boy should be trained to military service, 
ready at his country's need. There were some 
twenty little boys in his private school, whom he 
supplied with wooden guns, with tin bayonets and 
bright tin swords and just a few drums. Each pleas- 
ant day he marched his little company up and down 
the yard at Plymouth Court House. One day, when 
he was doing this, he met a beautiful girl, Elizabeth 
Bartlett, whom he afterwards married. 

At the beginning of the Revolutionary War, he 
joined the Continental Army, leaving his baby and 
his wife with her mother. He fought the British 
soldiers sent over by King George to whip the Amer- 
ican colonists, because they would not pay taxes on 
stamps and tea. He fought them in Rhode Island, 
he fought them in Dorchester and he fought them 
once again on the eastern shores of Maine. He was 
so brave that they made him first a Captain and then 
a Major in service. 

One of the older generals, Solomon Lovell, was 
sent by the Continental government to drive the 
British from Maine. The British had control of 
Castine (then called Bagaduce). They had built a 
big fort there named Fort George in honor of their 
perverse old king. Gen. Lovell took Peleg Wads- 
worth as his second in command. Paul Revere was 
along, too, as captain in charge of the ordnance. 

In a fleet of eight or nine sail, they went up 
Penobscot Bay as far as the mouth of the Bagaduce. 
Then Gen. Lovell thought it best for Major Peleg to 
set his men ashore in the small boats, to advance 
along the shore and climb the steep bank near 
Dyce's Head to storm the big fort. When, after 



180 MAINE, MY STATE 

great difficulty, Major Peleg arrived near the fort, 
he discovered it was too strongly guarded to be cap- 
tured. One of his look-out men sighted a big fleet 
of British men-of-war sailing up the bay. For fear 
they might be trapped and killed between the troops 
from the fort and the troops from the cruisers, Peleg 
took his men back to his own ships and they sailed 
further up the river to hide awhile from the enemy. 
The British saw them and soon began to give chase. 
To make sure that the fine American ships did not 
fall into the enemies' hands, the Americans, them- 
selves, set fire to that pretty white-sailed fleet and 
landed by row boats on the banks of the Penobscot 
above Fort Point. They had a wretched time after 
they got ashore, for the woods were very thick. 
None of them knew the way and it was several weeks 
before they reached their homes. Peleg knew some- 
thing about w^oodcraft, for he had been in the Maine 
woods before. Nevertheless, they almost starved 
and were obliged to eat roots and bad smelling sea 
weed and even their dogs. 

The next year Peleg was given command of the 
whole Maine district, but he always found Fort 
George too strong for him to capture, although he 
made several attempts. Finally he decided to take 
a house in Thomaston for the winter and have his 
wife, his little boy Charles and baby Elizabeth to live 
with him. His oldest girl, Zilpah, he left in Ply- 
mouth with her grandmother Bartlett. 

General Peleg, for he was now general, thought 
there would be no chance to capture Fort George, 
guarded as it was by so many soldiers, at least dur- 
ing the winter, for the harbor was blocked with ice 
and it was very hard to lead the troops through the 



FROM THE LIPS OF ZILPAH 181 

deep snows. You see, he never quite gave up the 
idea of some day being able to capture the fort. Cas- 
tine was tlien one of the most important places on 
the Maine coast. 

So Peleg sat him down by the cheerful fireside in 
his little rented house at Thomaston to enjoy the 
company of his young wife and play with his little 
boy and girl. All these years since he was married, 
he had been fighting the great fight and had seen lit- 
tle of his family. Every spare moment he was 
thinking and planning how to capture the big fort at 
Castine when the ice went out in the Spring. All 
his troops were visiting their homes and there was 
what might be called *'a lull before battle" in this 
part of the state. The neighbors formed a guard 
for the Wadsworth family. One soldier, Old Hickey, 
who had been with young Peleg many years, stayed 
with him now. 



Part III. The Capture 

It was one stormy night in February , 1780, I 
think it was the eighteenth. It had snowed all the 
day, just as it has today, and the little house at 
Thomaston was surrounded by drifts. Every one 
had gone to bed and to sleep in peace and comfort. 
A group of fifteen red-coated British soldiers crept 
stealthily up under the windows, whispering, stum- 
bling and often cursing at the great snow drifts, 
which made it difficult to surround the place. The 
sergeant saluted and reported to Lieut. Stockton, 
who had charge of the expedition. 

* * Sir, your bird is trapped, for once he is caught 
napping.'' 



182 Maine, My ^TaTE 

^^Fire one volley and shoot anyone wlio attempts 
to escape," said the lieutenant. 

Such a racket as rose on the still night air! The 
bullets whizzed in every direction. The windows 
were smashed, the doors torn from their hinges, cur- 
tains ripped down and slashed by swords. The 
Red-Coats rushed from one room to another, up 
stairs and down, trying to find General Peleg. Old 
Hickey was shot down at his master's door. The 
maid ran in from the ell crying, '^The Judgment 
Day is upon us." Peleg 's beautiful wife, with a 
warm robe throwm over her night gown, ran to the 
cradle to rescue her baby, while a young girl visitor 
screamed for help, as a soldier was choking her, 
because she refused to tell the room where the Gen- 
eral slept. 

Peleg himself had fought like a lion until a mus- 
ket ball had gone through his left arm above the 
elbow, rendering that arm useless. So he was forced 
to surrender to Lieut. Stockton, who helped him on 
with his coat, threw a blanket from the bed over his 
injured shoulder and carried him prisoner to a small 
privateer commanded by a young officer called Lang, 
w^hich was waiting to carry them to Castine. 

Suffering as he was from the pain in his arm, he 
could not keep his thoughts from the dear ones he 
had left in such distress. He was devoured with 
anxiety for his sweet wife and baby. There, too, 
was Old Hickey left for dead. At the last mom.ent 
he was puzzled concerning the little boy, Charles. 
Why had he not run to his father? Had he been 
killed or frightened out of his senses by the commo- 
tion? 



from];^the lips of zilpah 183 

Thus Gen. Peleg went to Fort George after all, 
before the Spring came, but he went a sad prisoner 
instead of the victor he had hoped to be. As he 
went through the crowd of settlers pushing and jost- 
ling each other at the landing, many of them taunted 
him for being a Rebel. The army surgeon was called 
from his house in the village to extract the bullet and 
his wound was dressed. For several days he lay in 
a stupor and the fever in his wounded arm almost got 
the upper hands of Dr. Calef 's treatment. Day by 
day, however, he recovered his strength. The 
officers at the fort called to see him often and treated 
him in a friendl}^ way with the courtesy due his rank. 

Part IV. Prison Walls 

The time dragged slowly, but at last May came 
and brought with her a garment of fresh young grass 
with which she clothed the bare walls of the mas- 
sive fort. Every tree, too, was bursting into leaf. 
No joy of Spring came to Gen. Peleg 's bruised heart. 
He sat one bright day by the window, wondering if it 
were possible that he could ever get by the sentries 
and over that same green wall, if he should make the 
attempt. As he wondered, he heard a light tapping 
at the door and the voice of his sentry, *^ General, a 
visitor for you. '^ He was so discouraged that he did 
not even turn around. He was tired of calls from 
those stupid British officers. Could they not let him 
alone to nurse his lame arm and think his bitter 
thoughts'? A light step on the boards of the bare 
floor, then a pair of soft hands clasped his head and 
pressed his tired lids over his straining eyes; 
lips whose caressing touch he knew so well met his; 



184 MAINE, MY STATE 

and in a moment more, he held his beloved wife, Eliz- 
abeth, in his arms. 

^^Yes,^' said she, ^* General Campbell sent for 
me. He knew you were grieving for home and wife. 
I may stay a few days — he permits it — and can visit 
you often.'' 

Neither expressed the thought that was vexing- 
each, that the next ship bound to England might take 
Gen. Peleg an enforced passenger. 

Life seemed even sadder after Elizabeth returned 
to her children. Four prison walls held him captive 
and he studied them over and over for an idea which 
should free him before the ship arrived from Eng- 
land. It had been his one ambition to get within the 
walls and now he was equally possessed by a desire 
to get without the walls of Fort George. The night 
of his wife 's departure he lay on his rude cot, sleep- 
less, the light from the little window in the hall door, 
where the sentry kept watch of his prisoner, shining 
upon the rough spruce planking of the ceiling. As 
he gazed at the ceiling, the light brought out the 
immense width of the board. An inspiration darted 
through his brain. Why not? In the hours of 
early dawn he gazed again and again. The room 
was buzzing with flies and the planks of the ceiling 
were specked and dingy. The idea grew and grew, 
but he was so helpless with his lame arm and his only 
tool an ordinary jackknife. 

Now there was a certain man who had lived in 
Castine many years, by name Barnabas Cunning- 
ham. He was old and crusty and awkward. No one 
had asked him if he wanted to serve King George, 
but he had been told he must. However, his heart 
was in the right place, for it was with General 



FROM THE LIPS OF ZILPAH 185 

Washington and the thirteen states. His half-sick, 
fretty old wife was even more of a rebel than he. So 
when Barnabas was called to the fort as personal 
servant to Gen. Wadsworth, they were both glad that 
he could be of assistance to one who had served the 
Father of His Country. 

Barnabas had proved himself faithful to Gen- 
eral Peleg. He kept the hearth and floor well 
brushed and acted as nurse during the long days 
when the general was so helpless with his injured 
arm. Peleg knew in his heart that he could trust 
the man. Often he had told him bits of news about 
the Continental Army, which had drifted into the 
fort from time to time. 

^ ' What 's over this room, Barnabas 1 ' ' asked Gen. 
Peleg the next morning after the idea came to him. 

^^Just an empty garret, sir," smiled Barnabas, 
'*with a trap door near the rough stairs, which lead 
from this floor at the other end of the hall; but two 
sentries in this hall, sir.'' 

^'Then whatf continued the General. 

^^ Another flight of stairs, a long hall, with a sen- 
try at each door. Sentries all over the lot, at the four 
corners of this building on the outside, one at 
each corner of the fort and strung along the bastions 
at intervals of say, twenty feet.'' 

^ ^ Then you think I might have difficulty in dodg- 
ing the sentries, thick as blueberries in August, if I 
should take a walk some dark night. Friend 
Barnabas 1 ' ' 

^^ Indeed, sir, you would, but better to be shot, 
than to die like a rat in its hole. It is high time you 
stirred yourself. General, if you can use your arm, ' ' 
offered the old servant. 



186 MAINE, MY STATE 

That night under cover of the darkness, Peleg 
tried to cut that broadest plank in the spruce ceil- 
ing, but he made little headway. The following day 
his morning greeting to Barnabas was ^ ^ Barnabas, a 
good carpenter is known by his tools. I would like 
to learn the trade. ' ' 

When the old man brought him his noonday 
meal, he put in front of him a very delicious looking 
pie. ^'General," said he, ^^ my. wife would be a sec- 
ond Molly Stark or Betsey Ross, if she knew how. 
She's heard that you came from Duxbury way — 
that's where her mother came from — so she's baked 
you one of them Cape Cod cranberry cobblers. Her 
eyesight is troubling her some, so be keerful when 
you eat it, there may be some bullets mixed with the 
berries," and he gave a knowing grin. 

Peleg was careful. He cut the lirst slice very 
skilfully and just as carefully drew out the gimlet 
which he concealed until bedtime. After that he 
put in a good night's work at boring holes a few 
inches apart in that obstinate spruce plank over his 
bed. He filled the holes with bits of bread chewed 
into pellets, then smeared with dust the surface of 
the plank. How his arm ached the next morning. 

At this time a second great joy came to him. 
Another prisoner was rudely thrust into his room 
and it proved to be young Major Burton, who had 
served under him during the previous summer. 
There was great rejoicing because fate had decreed 
that they should share the same room. The Major 
was soon initiated into the secret of the gimlet and 
that Barnabas was trustworthy. He in his turn gavp 
news of the American army. Each night the gimlet 



FROM THE LIPS OF ZILPAH 187 

did good service and fortunately the bread held out 
to conceal the holes. 

Part V. The Escape 

Then one morning they heard one sentry say to 
the other, that the privateer had been sighted. 
They said something further about the prisoner 
being too valuable a man to exchange and that in 
three days he would be on his way to England. 

That night their escape must be made. It was 
the 18th of February, when Peleg was taken pris- 
oner. This was the 18th of June. The day had been 
sultry. By twilight great, black clouds rolled up 
behind the fort. The air grew thick with a porten- 
tous hush. The birds circled over the barracks 
uttering warning notes. The storm broke in verit- 
able fury ; the rain pelted on the roof like bullets, the 
thunder boomed; the arch of heaven was split with 
cruel zigzags of lightning, a terrible tempest to be 
caught in, but the best kind of a night to make an 
escape. 

Hastily the two men cut the board from the ceil- 
ing and climbed into the loft. Silently they slipped 
along the narrow space until they reached the trap 
and, with the aid of the General's blanket, lowered 
themselves to the floor below. Cautiously past the 
sentries, aided by the noise of the storm, they gained 
without detection the outside of the barracks. Here 
they separated. Peleg made at once for the ram- 
parts. Up, up their slippery green, one moment of 
breathless waiting on the very summit, lying with 
his face flat against the green earth, then down he 
rushed over the outside wall, just escaping the 
barbed palisades, and into the half filled moat up to 



188 MAINE, MY STATE 

his waist in dirty water, and on again until under 
cover of the woods. Fortunately the tide was low 
and they could wade over the mudflats across the 
curve of the bay to a point opposite the fort, thus 
escaping the guards stationed at the neck of the 
peninsula. 

"Within half an hour, all the fort and town knew 
of the escape. Troops were at their heels like hun- 
gry wolves. A barge full of marines was sent out to 
scour the mouth of the river. 

Peleg, wet, tired, aching in every bone, conscious 
of his injured arm in every motion, found himself 
some seven miles from the village in the early hours 
of dawn. In spite of all these discomforts, he was 
wild with happiness. At last he was free, free! 
If he only knew that Major Burton was also safe. 
He could not resist the temptation to hear his own 
voice in the silent wilderness. Lightly he began to 
hum Yankee Doodle and with difficulty kept from 
dancing a few steps accompaniment to the tune, 
when he heard a suppressed chuckle behind him and, 
yes, it was Major Burton, half choked with laughter 
at the tliought of his dignified General trying to sing 
and dance in reckless joy. 

From then on, it was comparatively easy, for they 
had both been over the ground several times. The}" 
crawled through underbrush, keeping out of sight 
for the whole day. They lunched on a bit of bread 
and meat they had saved from their dinner of the 
day before. Finally they were lucky enough to find 
an old bateau with oars, hidden under a friendly 
tree. The bateau required much bailing, but after 
hours of labor they reached the opposite side of the 
Penobscot River. From thence they worked their 



FROM THE LIPS OF ZILPAH 189 

way to Thomastoii, stopping at friendly farm-lioiises 
for their food. 



Part VI. The Dream 

**It was throng-h such storm and stress, that the 
men of 76 fought their way to make a good, free 
government for you and a thousand other small boys 
like you, my son. ' ^ Zilpah ceased speaking, waited 
a moment, then touched with gentle hand the head 
resting on her shoulder. The boy uttered a long, 
rapturous sigh. 

* ^ Mother, do you suppose I shall ever be a Grand- 
father and have my grandsons so proud of me f 

Zilpah checked the amused laugh which leaped 
to her lips at the quaint question. A vision came to 
her. She saw in the bright glow of the embers on 
the hearth, thousands, yea, tens of thousands coming 
to this very room to do homage to her father and 
her son. 

That night was bitter cold and as little Henry 
Wadsworth Longfellow lay snuggled in his soft pil- 
lows, he dreamed a queer dream. It seemed to him, 
from one side of his big four-poster mahogany bed 
advanced a long line of old world heroes, as far as 
he could see into the dim corners of the room. They 
came with trumpet and alarum. The foremost one 
like a herald bore a shining feather and lo, it was a 
pen. Each hero as he passed, said ''Write about 
me.^^ From the other side came another gleaming 
group. These were all new-world heroes. As the 
train advanced, he saw in its ranks, Hiawatha, the 
Indian lad, John Alden, Miles Standish and Baron 
Castin of St. Castin. Each looked down upon him 



190 MAINE, MY STATE 

and whispered low, ' ^ Sing about us, we are the new, 
the broader life, sing our deeds." 

In the little brain of the sleeping lad, the seed of 
prophecy had taken root. Both the house and its 
little owner were to go down to posterity — Famous. 

— Louise Wheeler Bartlett. 



ARNOLD'S TRAIL 

IF YOU were asked, ^'Who was Benedict 
Arnold!" your answer would be, ''He was a 

traitor." The perfidy of Arnold, the traitor, 
has blotted out all memory of Arnold, the patriot; 
yet patriot he once was and model soldier. As an 
able leader he stood high in Washington's esteem. 

In 1775 Washington appointed Arnold com- 
mander of an expedition against Quebec. He 
advanced by way of the Kennebec River over the 
mountains of Maine, with a force of eleven hundred 
men. These men were hunters and Indian fighters. 
They knew how to procure food from the forests 
and fish from the rivers and how to manage birch 
bark canoes. Their clothes were made of deer skins. 
Each man carried a rifle, a long knife, a small axe 
and a tomahawk. 

They assembled at Prospect Hills, Mass., Sep- 
tember 11th, 1775, and sailed from Newburyport on 
the Merrimac River, on the afternoon of September 
19th, 1775. There were ten schooners and sloops. 
After a smooth voyage, they entered the mouth of 
the Kennebec one morning a little after sunrise. 

Arnold w^orked his way four miles up river to 
Parker's Flat, where his vessel anchored for a few 



Arnold's trail 191 

hours. Then he proceeded six miles up the river. 
Making its way among rocks, islands and bays the 
fleet became scattered. Sailing through Merrymeet- 
ing Bay, they pushed on toward Gardinerstown, 
arriving Friday, September 22d. Arnold halted 
there to obtain bateaux from Major Reuben Col- 
burn's ship-yard. 

AVashington had ordered the building of two 
hundred four-oared bateaux, each to be equipped 
with two paddles and two setting poles. The bat- 
eaux were quickly but not well made, as they were 
to be abandoned within a few weeks and the need 
of staunch boats was not appreciated. 

Major Colburn had been ordered by Washington 
to send scouts over the route. Dennis Getchell and 
Samuel Berry of Vassalboro performed this service. 
They reported to Arnold that his advance was being 
watched by Indian spies employed by Governor 
Carleton. Yet the expedition proceeded and farther 
up the river Arnold was told by a squaw that at 
Shettican the Mohawks were ready to destroy them. 

When shoal water was reached they transferred 
to the bateaux and thus moved on toward Fort 
Western in the Augusta of today, the Hallowell of 
1775, the Cushnoc of Indian geography, forty-three 
miles from the sea. The whole of Arnold's army 
arrived there before Sunday, September 24th. 

Aaron Burr, afterward Vice-President of the 
United States, was a private in this expedition. At 
Fort Western he met Jacataqua, a beautiful princess 
of the Abnaki tribe, who was eager to go with the 
soldiers to Quebec. 

Before leaving the Fort a great feast was spread. 
Jacataqua and Aaron Burr had killed a bear and 



192 MAINE, MY STATE 

two cubs in Captain Howard's cornfield and these 
were roasted for the banquet. Around them were 
arranged ten baskets of roasted ears of corn with 
quantities of pork, bread and potatoes, one hundred 
pumpkin pies, watermelons and wild cherries. Wil- 
liam Gardiner of Cobbosseecontee, Major Colburn 
and Squire Oakman of Gardinerstown, Judge Bow- 
man, Colonel Cushing, Captain Goodwin and Squire 
Bridge of Pownalborough, with their ladies, were 
invited guests. Led by the company officers, the 
troops and guests marched to the table. Judge 
Howard was at the head of the table, Jacataqua on 
his right and Aaron Burr on his left, with General 
Arnold at the foot. Reverend Samuel Spring asked 
the blessing, praying that Jacataqua might influence 
her people of the wilderness to give them safe con- 
duct along the march. 

Later this maiden, being a great huntress, 
scoured the forests for food for the starving soldiers. 
Skilled in the use of herbs and roots, she faithfully 
nursed those who fell ill. 

On resuming the journey the troops found the 
river half a mile beyond Fort Western blocked by the 
falls. On the east side was a seldom travelled road 
to Fort Halifax, and over this the country people 
with their oxen and horses carried the bateaux and 
stores to Fort Halifax. 

From this point part of the force proceeded by 
water, the remainder by land. Half a mile above 
Fort Halifax, they came to the first carry around 
Ticonic Falls. This was accomplished by hard labor. 
A little beyond came the dangerous Five Miles Rip- 
ples. Then the expedition reached Canaan, now 
Skowhegan, where they had dinner. Next came a 



Arnold's trail 193 

battle with the Skowhegan falls. Here, between 
two ledges, forming a passage only twenty-five feet 
wide, the river drives like a mill race. With diffi- 
culty the bateaux were hauled through this gate- 
way. On the succeeding long run of swift current, 
the men walked on the banks drawing the boats by 
the painters, while others pulled them from the 
rocks. Then they came to another fall twenty-two 
feet high, which they passed with difficulty. 

The troops were very tired and very glad when 
they reached Norridgewock. They remained there 
a week to repair the boats and re-fit the expedition. 

Carratunk was the entrance to the real wilder- 
ness. Arnold reached the Great Carrying place 
there October 11th, the army in good health and 
spirits. Rain set in. Because of inadequate shelter 
some few were taken ill and by Arnold's direction a 
hospital was built which was immediately occupied 
by Dr. Irvin with his patients. 

Resuming the journey, Arnold wrote Washington 
the greatest difficulties were passed and he hoped to 
reach the Chaudiere in eight or ten days. The diffi- 
culties of the road increased this time, somewhat. 

Arnold entrusted to two Indians a letter to John 
Manier, or Captain William Gregory or Mr. John 
Maynard, Quebec, saying that he was on Dead River, 
one hundred and sixty miles from Quebec, with about 
two thousand men, and that he designed to co-oper- 
ate with General Schuyler and assist the Canadians 
in resisting Great Britain's unjust measures. The 
letter asked the number of troops and vessels at 
Quebec. Inclosed was a letter to General Schuyler 
asking for advices from him. The letter fell into the 



194 MAINE, MY STATE 

Lands of the Lieutenant-Governor of Canada. This 
was the first they knew of Arnold's detachment. 

Eight miles from Bog Brook the expedition came 
to Hurricane Falls, and another carry. A few miles 
beyond in a clearing stood the cabin of Natanis, the 
Indian, where is now the village of Flagstaff. The 
store of provisions being very low, all men unfit for 
duty were sent back. 

October 19th rain began, resulting in a disastrous 
flood. Dead River which drains many ponds sud- 




The Flight of Nitanis 

Part of a Letter in the Indian Picture Writing on Birch Bark, supposed to have 
been written by the Norridgewock chief, Nitanis, informing his clansman of 
his escape from the perils of Arnold's expedition against Quebec. October, 
1775. It was found in an Indian trail, in the wilderness of the Upper Kennebec, 

denly swelled. In nine hours it rose eight feet. At 
four o 'clock, when Arnold and his party awoke, they 
found their baggage in the flood. 

The weather grew cold and the soldiers had no 
protection but tree boughs. Many boats were under 
water and the landmarks were altered. Soldiers by 
land or water fared hard, yet they pushed on to 
Black Cap rapids and the next carrying place, Ledge 
Falls. 



Arnold's trail 195 

The next obstruction was Upper Shadagee Falls, 
a sharp pitch followed by a long stretch of swift 
water. Here the river makes a double turn around 
the cliff. In passing this five or six bateaux filled 
and sank. Near the Falls Arnold camped for the 
night and the next day resumed the journey. On 
October 24th, he came to Serampos Falls, where he 
spent the night. It rained and snowed, but they 
went on, resolved to perish rather than give up the 
expedition. 

They now passed into Chain of Ponds, Long, 
Natanis and Round, from the last of which they were 
puzzled to find an exit, but finally discovered one in 
Horse Shoe Stream. 

They were forced to halt and when they lay down 
to sleep knew not whether they were on the right 
or wrong way. In the morning no easy portage 
could be found, yet they moved on, carrying from 
pond to lake, till the shaky boats were placed in 
Moosehorn or Arnold, largest and most beautiful of 
all the ponds in that region. 

Now began the long portage over the height of 
land. They encamped in the meadows, by Arnold's 
River, to wait for the rear division of the army. 

The report reached them that the Canadians 
would supply them with food and that there were 
few regulars at Quebec to resist them. 

After issuing a note of cheer and instruction to 
his men, Arnold rode three miles farther to a house 
of bark on the eastern shore of Lake Megantic and 
encamped for the night. Next morning he set out 
with four bateaux and a birch bark canoe, for the 
outlet of the lake, the Chaudiere River^ a boiling, 
foaming stream, 



196 



MAINE, MY STATE 



There Arnold ^s party was in great danger. Only 
the best boats could defy the water and avoid the 
rocks. Two boats were destroyed and three others 
damaged but no lives lost. At Sertegan, provisions 
awaited them. The people showed good will and 




On August 18th, 1912, The Second Company, Governor's Foot Guard, of New 
Haven, Conn., founded in 1774, and one of the most famous military organizations 
in America, started a pilgrimage to Quebec, following the route through Maine, 
taken by Benedict Arnold on his famous expedition to Canada. An incident of 
this pilgrimage was the dedication of a boulder monument at Fort Western, 
Augusta, where 137 years before, Arnold's forces halted for a week on their 
memorable march. The boulder was erected to the memory of the Connecticut 
men who followed Arnold to Canada. The above picture was taken at Augusta, 
on that memorable occasion. Fort Western is seen at the left of the picture. 



admiration for the courage of the Americans. It 
was hard to find lodging. Huts were put up and 
fires built, but the soldiers were very uncomfortable ; 
for the weather was cold and it snowed all day and 
night. 



WHEN THE KING OF PRANCE VISITED SANFORD 197 

Arnold's messenger was captured. Then came 
rumors that the approach of the Provincials was 
known to the enenw; that the river was guarded by 
a frigate and a sloop of war, and that the inhabitants 
in the vicinity of Quebec had been summoned to the 
defense of the city under the penalty of death. 

Still Arnold kept at work ; he collected provisions 
and more boats, even made plans to scale the walls. 
November 13th, in the inky blackness of night, three 
trips across the river were made and five hundred 
men were landed on the north side. Then the tide 
ebbed, exposing the rocks, and the wind blew, pre- 
venting the crossing of more troops. The moon 
appeared and the Americans on the north shore 
were discovered. Arnold's venture was a failure. 
His march was over. 

—Mrs. E. C. CarlL 



WHEN THE KING OF FRANCE VISITED 

SANFORD 

THE HARVEST season of 1797 found Col. 
Emery's tavern, in the little town of Sanford, 
in a great stir and bustle of preparation for 
guests of noble birth. No less a personage than 
Louis Philippe of France, accompanied by his two 
brothers, the Duke de Montpensier and the Count de 
Beaujolais, and by the Duke of Talleyrand, would 
pass through South Sanford, on a certain day, on 
their way to Portland, and it was expected that they 
would tarry there and ' ^ put up at the ordinary, ' ' for 
a night, at least. 



198 MAINE, MY STATE 

At that time South Sanford was the business 
center of the town and not the busy manufacturing 
village we know as such. 

As you may think, much butchering and baking 
was going on. The old Colonel had the best of the 
provisions carried over from his store, just across 
the way, and he even made a special trip to Portland 
to get such luxuries as white sugar and cotfee, which 
he did not always keep in stock, they were so little 
used by any but the wealthy. It wasn't the custom 
to decorate in honor of famous guests, but every- 
thing about the tavern was made spick and span. 

None were more interested in these preparations 
than the three small boys of the tavern. They were 
the grandsons of Col. Caleb Emery, who was still 
owner of the tavern, though the active management 
had been passed over to his son, William, father of 
the boys. Caleb, his grandfather's namesake, was 
ten years old; Thomas was nine years old and Wil- 
liam six. 

These boys, in after years, took great pride in 
telling how Louis Philippe, King of France, visited 
at their home, although, at the time of his visit, he 
wasn't king at all, but the Duke of Chartres; and no 
one could know that he was destined for the throne 
of France. 

But you are wondering why this distinguished 
personage should be visiting the *' wilds of Maine," 
which were very much wilder then than they are 
now. He had taken part in the revolution going on 
in France at that time, and he and his family were 
among those who had incurred the wrath of royalty, 
so that their great estates had been seized by the 
crown and the}^ had been obliged to flee for their 



WHEN THE KING OF FEANCE VISITED SANFORD 199 

lives to other countries. As it was, the father of 
Louis Philippe was executed four years before the 
time of this story and Louis and his brothers and 
sister judged it wise to stay away until French poli- 
tics should become more settled. 

Before the death of his father Louis had 
dropped his title of Duke and adopted the name of 
plain M. Egalite. Unrecognized, he had lived for a 
year in Switzerland, teaching French and mathe- 
matics. Now, for nearly a year, he had been travel- 
ling in America. If the Sanf ord people did not know 
that they were entertaining a future king of France, 
neither did Louis Philippe know that he was visiting 
the future State of Maine, for it was then a part of 
Massachusetts. 

Although more than twenty years had passed 
since the signing of the Declaration of Independence, 
forever banishing titled nobility from America, the 
people still felt a wholesome respect for dukes and 
counts and no little curiosity concerning them. You 
may be sure the Emery boys were the envy of all the 
village lads, who would be lucky if they got a 
glimpse of the great visitors through the coach win- 
dows or as they alighted in the tavern yard, while 
Caleb and Thomas Emery were to spend the night 
under the very roof with them ! 

For hours the boys watched the post road for the 
private coach, in which the Duke and his party were 
travelling. And, after all, he wasn't so much to see! 
'^Just a man,'' and a young man at that, plain and 
respectable looking enough, with a serious face. 
"Where were the velvets and gold embroideries 
which they had supposed nobility always wore! 
This young man was enveloped- in a long, dark trav- 



200 MAINE, MY STATE 

elling cloak and carried an umbrella. One of his 
companions was pointed out to the boys as the Duke 
of Talleyrand, who, at that time, was more cele- 
brated and regarded with more interest than the 
king-to-be. He w^alked with a limp, which he tried 
to conceal, and altogether was not prepossessing to 
boyish eyes, looking for dash and military bearing. 

The Emery boys were frankly disappointed in 
the future king of France. He had, to be sure, a 
certain air of distinction and polish, but it was quite 
lost on them. Caleb and Thomas thought him 
decidedly inferior in appearance to their grand- 
father, who was larger and looked quite imposing, 
dressed for the reception of the ducal party in his 
swallow-tailed, cutaway coat resplendent with brass 
buttons and a wide white collar, his silver watch 
chain, with its heavy fob, dangling across the wide 
expanse of his buff vest. 

Col. Caleb Emery was, indeed, a man of import- 
ance in Sanford. He was the first postmaster of the 
town (the post-office having been established two 
years before this memorable visit), he was the village 
merchant and tavern-keeper, a justice of the peace, 
colonel of the militia and deacon of the church. He 
was on all committees of importance, for South San- 
ford never thought of doing anything without the 
Colonel at the head of it. In politics he always had 
been prominent. He had been selectman, town clerk 
and deputy sheriff in turn and he was sent as the first 
representative of his district to the General Court 
in 1785. He had a military record, too, for he had 
taken part in the Lake George Expedition at the 
time of the French and Indian War, and in the 
Expedition to Ehode Island during the Revolution. 



WHEN THE KING OF FRANCE VISITED SANFORD 201 

All the children of the neighborhood liked Col. 
Emery. Although an austere man, he had ever a 
kindly greeting for children and his capacious 
pockets and saddle-bags were always full of apples 
(a great luxury in those days) from his big orchard. 
These he distributed with a lavish hand among the 
children wherever he went. 

His small grandsons adored him. He was still a 
handsome man, despite his years and his large nose, 
for it was a common joke, made all in good nature, 
that the Colonel was obliged to turn his nose one side 
w^hile eating. 

Of course the boys were not allowed in the din- 
ing-room on this important occasion, but they could 
peep in as the door opened and shut when the 
serving maids passed in and out. 

The meal was not served in courses, but the guest 
table was loaded with good things, according to the 
New England fashion. Probably never before nor 
after did Louis Philippe of France partake of just 
such feasts as those he got in New England. There 
were haunches of venison, spareribs of the choicest 
porkers, huge roasts of beef, stuffed turkey, Indian 
bannock baked over the coals on the kitchen hearth, 
baked beans and Indian pudding which had baked 
for a day and a night in the great brick oven, pan- 
cakes with maple syrup and pumpkin pies. The 
tables were flanked with big pitchers of cider, a bev- 
erage entirely new to the guests from France, besides 
the luxurious tea and coffee. 

The Colonel himself escorted his honored guests 
to their places and saw that they were assiduously 
served from Grandmother Emery's best dishes, 
spread on snowy homespun linen. It is said that the 



202 MAINE, MY STATE 

Duke and his party enjoyed tlieir meals at the Emery 
tavern. 

The boys got a better look at the visitors on their 
way from the dining-room to the front parlor, but 
their wild hopes of slipping in unobserved were shat- 
tered by their being sent off to bed as soon as their 
supper was eaten. Morning found them up with the 
sun in order that they might not miss the departure 
of the ducal coach. They need not have troubled 
themselves. The future King of France was not an 
early riser and perhaps he found Grandmother 
Emery ^s best bed of live goose feathers particularly 
grateful after the hard journey of the previous day. 
Anyway, he had his breakfast served to him in his 
bedroom. 

Louis Philippe and his party remained a day or 
two at Col. Emery's tavern. And what do you sup- 
pose pleased Louis most, among all the new and to 
him strange things, in this part of the new country! 
The pictures that hung on the w^alls of the ''spare 
room" which he occupied. They were by French 
artists, their titles in the French language, and these 
reminders looked wonderfully good to the exiled 
duke. 

*-ii' ■it' 4tf -^ 
•JV" "A" "TV '«' 

Twenty-eight years later another distinguished 
guest from France was entertained at this same 
tavern, one who was largely influential in putting- 
Louis Philippe on the throne of France. It was the 
Marquis de Lafayette, on his memorable visit to 
America in 1824-5. He stopped there, so it is 
claimed, on his way to Portland and for this reason 
the old house, which was quite a palatial one for 
those days, was for many years known as the Lafay- 



WHEN THE KING OF FRANCE VISITED SANFORD 203 

ette Tavern. This old landmark, a square, rambling, 
two-storied house, could be seen in South Sanford, 
until a very few years ago, when it was torn down. 

Another notable occasion in the boyhood of 
Caleb, Thomas and William Emery came two years 
after the visit of Louis Philippe, at the death of 
George Washington. On the day of the funeral the 
town's militia paraded the streets of South Sanford. 

With thrills mingled with awe, the boys watched 
the company under command of Major Samuel Nas- 




The Lafayette Tavern, Sanford 



son march, with arms reversed, to the muffled beat 
of drums, toward the tavern. 

There they were received by Col. Emery and 
given refreshment, as was the custom of the day. 

Washington did not seem such a far-away and 
shadowy personage to the Emery boys as he does to 
the boys and girls of our day. He was as real to 
Caleb and Thomas as Theodore Eoosevelt to-day is 
to you. 



204 Maine, my state 

Several Sanford veterans had been with Wash- 
ington, two of them through the terrible winter at 
Valley Forge, and they spoke quite familiarly of 
Gen. Washington, when, around the blazing fire at 
the Emery Tavern, they related their hardships and 
sufferings. 

Only ten years before his death (Thomas was a 
baby then) Washington actually had visited Kittery 
Point. It was the one and only time the Father of 
his Country was in Maine and he considered the visit 
of enough importance to mention in his diary. 

The boys frequently rode with their grandfather 
to Kittery, which was but a few miles from their 
home. This town was the birthplace and old home 
of both the Colonel and his wife. It had been related 
to the lads, many times, how Washington, on that 
visit, went fishing with Parson Stevens and a party 
of friends. Caleb wished he had been born a few 
years sooner, so that he might, perchance, have gone 
to Kittery to see the great man; and he never could 
understand why his grandfather had neglected to 
find out what luck President Washington had when 
he went fishing in Kittery. 

— Emmie Bailey Whitney. 



DR. BENJAMIN VAUGHAN, THE FRIEND OF 

STATESMEN 

C i T T ALLOWELL will one day be greater than 

I I New York," wrote an Italian historian, 

J who visited Maine more than a century 

ago, ''for through it will flow all the trade from 

Canada. '^ 



DR. BENJAMIN VAUGHAN 205 

Could he have known how little of his dream of 
Hallowell's greatness was to be realized, he might 
have wondered. Perhaps he did not understand the 
difference between the sunny climate of his own 
land, and that of a country whose rivers are ice- 
bound for at least three months of the year, but he 
had some little foundation on which to build his 
dreams, for Hallowell, when he saw it, was a port of 
entry, and from it ships sailed away down the Ken- 
nebec, bound for nearly every port on the globe. 
Oftentimes those same ships were built and launched 
from Hallowell's banks. Perhaps the ship-builder 
was a sea-captain as well, or if he were not, he made 
voyages in his own ships to strange lands. Such was 
Peter Grant, whose grandchildren found a pencilled 
record on the lid of his desk, of every voyage he had 
ever made in his sailing vessels. 

To this Peter Grant fell the honor of cutting the 
masts for **01d Ironsides.'' He cut them in Vassal- 
boro, and his little grand-daughter, when she was 
old enough to understand the story, used to gaze 
with awe at the stumps from which they were cut. 

Though the tide of commerce ebbing from her 
shores has robbed Hallowell of her glory, she has 
been left rich memories. Could some magic power 
call up the pageant of her past you would see per- 
sons of world-wide fame. Through the magic power 
of the imagination, try to catch a glimpse of one of 
the personages with whom old Hallowell was famil- 
iar — Dr. Benjamin Vaughan. Dr. Vaughan was 
associated with the greatest statesmen of his day. 
He designed our State Seal and this is but one of his 
many claims to distinction. 



206 MAINE, MY STATE 

Benjamin Vaughan was born in Jamaica, April 
19, 1751. When a small lad, his father moved to 
Ijondon. He was a student at Cambridge, one of 
England's great universities, but was not allowed 
to receive any degree because he was a Unitarian, 
and that honor was reserved for members of the 
Church of England. 

Benjamin Vaughan married Sarah Manning, the 
daughter of a wealthy London merchant. Miss 
Manning's father withheld his consent to the mar- 
riage for a long time, because the young man was 
wholly engrossed in politics and had no profession. 
So Vaughan went to Edinburgh and studied medi- 
cine. Upon his return to London, he married Miss 
Manning, and became the partner of his father-in- 
law. He devoted some of his time, however, to his 
profession, opening an office in London, and also 
writing on medical subjects. He did not give up his 
interest in political matters, and he served as a mem- 
ber of Parliament. Years afterward, when he had 
made his home in Maine, he practised medicine 
among the people who needed his services. 

Then came the French Revolution, which fol- 
lowed our own Revolution so closely. Benjamin 
Vaughan 's whole heart was with a down-trodden 
and oppressed people, and he gave all his energies to 
helping them. Lord Shelburne, to whom he was pri- 
vate secretary, had sent him to Paris four times pre- 
viously as an ambassador, concerning the Peace of 
Paris. 

Because of his interest in the storm that had 
burst in France, he fell under the displeasure of the 
government in England. He spent much time 
abroad, living for a year in Paris. He came to 



DR. BENJAMIN VAUGHAN 207 

know Robespierre who fignred so prominently in the 
Revolution and who generally has been regarded as 
a monster. Dr. Vaughan, however, had no sym- 
pathy with Robespierre's methods of establish- 
ing justice. While living in France, Dr. Vaughan 
aroused the suspicion of the very people he was try- 
ing to aid. To escape their rage, he took the name 
of Jean Martin, and under that name finally fled for 
his life from France to Switzerland. 

A letter he had written put his life in danger. 
Almost any letter was dangerous in France in those 
days, for no matter how innocent it seemed, the fren- 
zied people could generally find proof in it, or 
thought they could, that the writer meant some 
harm. 

The French revolutionists wanted help from 
other countries. They asked the United States to 
help them, but the young nation, having just ended 
one war, had no mind to take part in another. When 
England, too, refused aid, the Revolutionists made 
plans for landing an army there and compelling their 
help. Dr. Vaughan did not approve this plan. In 
protest he wrote tlxp letter which so nearly cost him 
his life. 

If he could not live in France, neither could he 
return to his English home, since the government 
there was looking on him with disfavor, and Wil- 
liam Pitt advised him to keep out of Great Britain. 

After the stormy scenes he had witnessed, his 
mind turned naturally to some spot where he might 
find peace. He had been greatly interested in the 
American Revolution, and the fate of the new 
nation, and he determined to emigrate to America. 
His brother Charles had preceded him to the new 



208 MAINE, MY STATE 

land and at that time was living near Boston, and he 
himself had inherited lands on the Kennebec from 
his grandfather, Benjamin Hallowell. Dr. Vanghan 
sought there a haven of rest. He expected to find an 
ideal republic where everybody lived simply. He 
wanted his own family to be like the people among 
whom they were going to live, so he had them dress 
in the simplest manner, and he sold the silver plate 
which they had been accustomed to use at table. 

Dr. Vaughan^s hopes of an ideal country where 
all the people lived simple, honest lives, were shat- 
tered, but at least in Hallowell he found the quiet for 
which his soul longed. He and his wife rode to their 
new home on horseback through the Maine woods. 
Here, at the brow of a hill. Dr. Vaughan made his 
home in the house which is still standing, built by 
his brother, Charles. It was spacious and substan- 
tial, though simple in architecture, and was filled 
with historic pictures and colonial furniture. Acres 
of smooth, green lawns sloped away to the river, and 
the extensive gardens were under the care of an 
English gardener. At a short distance from the 
house, in a deep ravine with almost perpendicular 
sides, Vaughan brook, a noisy little stream, tore and 
twisted and splashed on its way to join the Ken- 
nebec. 

The house and the furnishings are little changed 
today, and the place is still the home of a direct 
descendant of Dr. Benjamin Vaughan. 

In the quiet of his new home. Dr. Vaughan 
indulged his taste for farming. He imported choice 
fruit trees, often giving away young trees or seed to 
encourage his neighbors in the same pursuit. He 
brought the best breeds of cattle from Europe, and 




ItoMis*' 



The Vaughan Mansion, Hallowell 







Vaughan Brook 



210 MAINE, MY STATE 

SO famous did Ms stock become, that nearly a hun- 
dred years later, when cattle were carried from the 
Kennebec to Brighton, people would exclaim, 
^' There goes the Vaughan breed.'' 

Dr. Vaughan instituted the first agricultural fair 
in the State of Maine. It was held at Manchester 
cross roads, and all went well until he undertook to 
give prizes for the best exhibits. This caused 
trouble. He was a member of the Massachusetts 
Society for promoting agriculture, for Maine was a 
part of Massachusetts then, and he often wrote arti- 
cles on farming for magazines, signing them *'A 
Kennebec Farmer." Dr. Vaughan 's brother Charles 
settled on the estate, and to him was given the care 
of the farming interests. 

Dr. Vaughan brought to his Hallowell home his 
library, which contained 10,000 volumes, the largest 
in New England aside from the Harvard College 
library. Mrs. Vaughan, who was lady bountiful to 
the country around, used to gather groups of chil- 
dren in the spacious library and read to them, a great 
treat, for books were not so plentiful then as now. 
Some of the medical books were given after Dr. 
Vaughan 's death to the Augusta State Hospital, 
others were presented to Harvard and Bowdoin. 

Dr. Vaughan entertained at this Hallowell home 
many distinguished guests. Among them was a man 
who had been very prominent in France, especially 
during the French Revolution. He was that wily, 
brilliant and unscrupulous politician, the Duke of 
Talleyrand. The great statesman was exiled from 
his own country. With a companion, equally out of 
favor in France, he fled to England, but the people 
there would have none of them, and America was 



DR. BENJAMIN VAUGHAN 211 

their only refuge. Probably his acquaintance with 
Dr. Vaughan, whom he had met in Paris, was one of 
the influences which brought the Duke of Talley- 
rand to Maine. Then, too, he had been in Maine 
before, though of that he said never a word. Dur- 
ing his stay, he went to Machias. One day at the 
home of a lawyer, with whom he was dining, he 
expressed a longing for a sight of the ^^ mountain by 
the sea" as he called it. His picture of that moun- 
tain was such an one as childish memories might 
have stamped on his mind. Not long afterwards 
the Duke visited Mount Desert, traveling, however, 
incognito. Ilis appearance on the island caused 
much conjecture. The island people wondered 
what brought him there, and the older ones began 
to discuss him among themselves. They took notice 
that their visitor was French. They also noted that 
he limped slightly. Then they recalled a French 
boy who had spent his childhood among them, and 
who had been lame from an accident. Putting all 
these recollections together they concluded that this 
strange visitor and the little French boy, who had 
been taken away from the island so long ago by a 
stranger, and brought up in France, were the same 
person. 

But what about the Duke's companion in exile? 
To this day, opinions as to his identity differ. He 
pretended at times that he could not speak English, 
though it was found out afterwards that he could 
speak it very well. In any case, it was certain that 
for political reasons he was safer out of France just 
then. As to his identity, some said, and there is 
every reason to believe, that he was no less a per- 
sonage than Louis Philippe, then a prince, and after- 



212 " MAINE, MY STATE 

wards King of France. Thus a prince of the House 
of Bourbon once wandered about the glades and 
Avooded slopes of Hallowell and went fishing in 
Vaughan Brook, into which, tradition says, he once 
fell. 

At least one other visitor to Dr. Vaughan in Hal- 
lowell bore a name written in the annals of France. 
He was the nephew of Marshal Ney, probably the 
most celebrated of Napoleon's marshals. The 
young man was ill of a fever while there, and was 
attended by one of the physicians of the town. Dr. 
Page. A letter which he wrote to the doctor on his 
return to France, and which accompanied the hun- 
dred dollars he sent, was treasured in the family for 
years, but was finally lost. 

Not only the distinguished guests whom Dr. 
Vaughan entertained in his home, but his wide cor- 
respondence with noted men at home and abroad, 
showed the prominence he had attained. He 
counted among his friends President Adams, John 
Jay and Benjamin Franklin. The latter gave to 
Dr. Vaughan a copy of his memoirs in his own 
1 land writing. Dr. Vaughan 's correspondence with 
Thomas Jefferson indicated a close friendship. 

In 1825, when the Marquis de Lafayette visited 
Portland, a public reception was given him by Hon. 
Albion K. Parris, then Governor of Maine. The 
Governor's aides were watching anxiously to pro- 
tect the Marquis against any annoyance, when one of 
them observed to Gov. Parris, ' ' Do you see that man 
there, clothed in black, in small clothes, his hair 
white, and hat in hand, who has been talking long 
with Lafayette? I fear he will annoy him. I'll go 
and send him away.'* 



li 



DR. BENJAMIN VAUGHAN ' 2l3 

The Governor was horrified. **What/' said he, 
that venerable man"? That is Dr. Benjamin 
Vaughan of Hallowell. He is an old and intimate 
friend of the Marquis." 

Probably few men who have done so much for 
their country have been so little recognized as Dr. 
Vaughan. His services, in the making of peace 
between this country and Great Britain, have never 
been properly appreciated. His influence in Hallo- 
well went far to make the town what it was in its 
early days, and it is said that every man, woman and 
child in the town looked up to him. He was one of 
the finest scholars of his time. The degree of LL.D. 
was conferred on him by Harvard College, and later 
by Bowdoin. He was a member of many literary 
and scientific societies both in this country and 
Europe and he was one of the incorporators of the 
Maine Historical Society. He died in Hallowell in 
1835, at the age of 85. 

^*The happiest man I ever saw,'' said one who 
knew him well. 

Dr. Vaughan never would allow any biography of 
himself to be written, which probably accounts for 
the fact that in history, he has never received the 
honor which is his just due. His life would have 
made a thrilling story, for this man who came to 
spend his last days in a quiet spot by the Kennebec, 
had taken part in some of the most stirring events 
of the great French Revolution and was influential in 
the development of Maine. 

— Theda Cary Dingley. 



214 MAINE, MY STATE 

WHEN LAFAYETTE CAME TO PORTLAND 

^ ^ \ A A ^^^ DONE, William, you are up bright 
W \/ and early, sure enough ! ' ^ exclaimed Mrs. 
Gait to the boy who had just entered the 
kitchen. 

**Yes, mother. You see I don't want to miss 
anything if I can help it.'' 

^^True," approved the woman with a nod, '^and 
it's likely you'll never see a greater day than this 
will be for Portland, if all goes well. ' ' 

*'I'll be back in time for breakfast," called the 
hoy. 

And before his mother realized his intention, 
William had darted out into the street of the little 
town, for this was the 25th day of June in the year 
1825, and Portland, though at this time the capital 
of the new State of Maine, had fewer than ten 
thousand inhabitants. 

William was by no means the only boy running 
barefoot through the dusty streets. All about was 
an unusual stir and air of excitement. The town 
was in gala attire beyond anything ever seen here, 
and it needed no almanac to tell that it was June, the 
month of roses; their sweet breath was everywhere, 
for by armfuls and basketfuls, roses and other 
flowers had been given till now they were formed 
into rainbow-hued arches spanning the streets from 
side to side. 

What did it all mean? Had a stranger asked 
this question he would have been told that today 
Portland was to have the honor of entertaining the 
distinguished General, the Marquis Gilbert Motier 
de La Fayette,* the French gentleman who, nearly 



216 MAINE, MY STATE 

fifty years ago, bravely and generously had joined 
himself to the Colonial forces during the Revolu- 
tionary War. 

Lafayette had arrived in this country in August 
of the preceding year, and, a little more than a week 
back, had assisted in the services at the laying of the 
corner stone of Bunker Hill Monument. No wonder 
that the people of Portland, old and young, were 
doing everything possible to honor him. 

No rain had fallen for a long time, and dust was 
everywhere. As William reached the center of the 
town he saw the fire companies sprinkling the streets 
with their hand engines, and was told that Governor 
Parris and his party had gone to meet the expected 
guests at the State line. Forgetting breakfast, for- 
getting everything but the event about to take place, 
the boy gazed at the preparations which trans- 
formed the familiar streets, and at length joined a 
crowd, continually growing larger, which was wait- 
ing in the western part of the town for the first sight 
of the approaching party. 

It was just nine o^clock when somebody called 
out, '^Look, look! See that cloud of dust. They 
must be coming! *' 

Presently, over the road leading from Stroud- 
water, several carriages were seen coming up the 
hill. Lafayette had come ! and with a thrill of enthu- 
siasm William listened as the twelve-pounder guns 
stationed above the road announced the fact. These 
were the guns which had been captured by Lafayette 
at the battle of Brandywine, in 1777, a battle in 
which the General had been wounded. Nearer came 
the carriages, and now, from out the clouds of dust, 
the eager spectators caught their first sight of the 



WHEN LAFAYETTE CAME TO PORTLAND 2l7 

distinguished visitor, sitting in an open baronclie 
drawn by four white horses. With him were Gov- 
ernor Parris, Col. Dunlap and Col. Erving. In the 
carriage following were the son of the Marquis, 
George Washington Lafayette, and a friend, M. L. 
Vasseur. The reception committee and selectmen of 
the town were seated in the only coaches of which 
Portland could boast at this time, three in number, 
two of these being private carriages loaned for the 
occasion. 

Dismounting from them, the committee met their 
guests, and Hon. Stephen Longfellow, a prominent 
lawyer, began his address of welcome, to which the 
gallant General responded, showing himself familiar 
not only with the English language, but with the 
history of the town he had come to visit. 

William, meantime, had climbed upon a wheel of 
the coach, holding himself on by the roof, and as 
there w^ere no police in Portland at this time, he was 
permitted to see and hear something he would never 
forget. As the speech-making ended, a procession 
was formed with General Samuel Fessenden as chief 
marshal. The United Truckmen in uniform were 
followed by the Portland Light Infantry, Rifle Com- 
pany, Mechanic Blues, and the Brunswick Light 
Infantry, a company which had marched all the way 
to Portland (about twenty-nine miles), to join this 
parade. Very imposing it all was with the carriages 
taking their places in the rear, and a crowd of the 
State and townspeople walking on either side, while 
the hero of the day rode with bared head, the 
cynosure of all eyes. 

Proceeding to the corner of High and Danforth 
streets, the procession passed under the first arch of 



218 MAINE, MY STATE 

flowers ; this displayed on one side the words, * ' Wel- 
come to Lafayette,'' and on the reverse, *' Brandy- 
wine." The second rose-arch was reached at the 
head of Free Street and here a live eagle looked 
down upon the unusual scene, while on the south 
side of the street, school children were gathered. 
William hurriedly took his place among the boys all 
of whom wore on their hats the oft-repeated words, 
^^ Welcome to Lafayette." The girls were all 
dressed in white, an eager, excited group. 

The parade halted, and Lafayette alighted while 
from the gathering of white-clad little maidens, one 
of the older ones stepped forth, a bouquet clasped in 
her hands, and going up to the General, presented 
her flowers in the name of the school children of 
Portland, whereupon the gallant gentleman lifted 
the girl in his arms and kissed her. 

The flutter of excitement died away, and a little 
later the procession moved on to the corner of Middle 
and Exchange streets, where the third lofty arch 
was set up. This displayed the significant reminder, 
**Yorktown." At the foot of King Street (now 
Lidia), a beautiful arch caused many exclamations 
of admiration. This, too, was especially compli- 
mentary to the visiting nobleman, being surmounted 
by a full-rigged ship beneath which could be read 
the quotation, ^^Then I shall purchase and fit out a 
vessel for myself." This was Lafayette's memora- 
ble reply to Dr. Benjamin Franklin in 1777, for when 
at that time the young Marquis offered his services 
to the struggling American forces, the committee to 
whom the offer was made was compelled to acknowl- 
edge that this country was too poor to give him even 
decent passage from France, and the intrepid noble- 



WHEN LAFAYETTE CAME TO PORTLAND 2l0 

man had responded in the words now displayed over 
his head, and it is an historical fact that his words 
were made good. 

At the corner of Pearl and Congress streets the 
last arch was reached, and just beyond this, in front 
of the State House, the procession halted. An awn- 
ing had been stretched from the State House cornice 
to the fine elms in front of the building, and up one 
of these trees the energetic William now climbed. 
From his high seat he could view the platform which 
had been built, where, after a brief rest, a reception 
was held, Lafayette shaking hands with the people 
that thronged to greet him. Suddenly there was a 
crash, a commotion. The platform had broken 
down! Fortunately, however, no one was hurt, and 
the handshaking went on. 

After an hour spent in this way, we may well 
imagine that the General was glad to be conducted 
to the rooms prepared for his use on Free Street. 
Here a little later a collation was served, after which 
the Marquis, who was also a General, went out to 
make a few calls, one of which was at the home of 
Mrs. Wingate, a daughter of General Henry Dear- 
born. The Wingates occupied the mansion on the 
corner of High and Spring streets, which is known 
today as the L. D. M. Sweat Art Museum, having 
become the property of the Portland Society of Art. 

At four o'clock a dinner was given at Union 
Hall, and during the exercises following, this toast 
was proposed, 

^ ^ Lafayette, the faithful disciple of the American 
SchooL'' 

Acknowledging the honor in a short speech, 
Lafavette concluded with these words: 



220 MAINE, MY STATE 

''The state of Maine who, yet an infant and not 
weaned from its mother, gallantly helped in crush- 
ing European aristocracy and despotism; and the 
town of Portland which rose from the ashes of 
patriotic Falmouth to become the flourishing 
metropolis of a flourishing State; may their joint 
Republican propensity last, and increase forever. '* 

The toast given by George Washington Lafay- 
ette was, ''Yankee Doodle, the oldest and gayest 
death-song to despotism. '^ 

In referring to his former experience in America, 
the general declared, "I found in Washington a 
father, and in Knox (Gen. Henry Knox) a brother.'* 

In all of these grand indoor events, William, of 
course, could have no part, but he heard all about 
them afterward. 

Although rain was so much needed, it would have 
been far more welcome on the following day than 
now just as the guests were leaving the hall, but even 
as it increased to a storm the distinguished visitors 
with others from the town and the college authori- 
ties, proceeded to the residence of Governor Parris 
where a levee was given in their honor. There was 
also a party at the home of Captain Asa Clapp, 
where was served the first ice cream ever made in 
Portland. 

Many of the young ladies of that day were proud 
to tell in after years, that they once had danced with 
Lafayette! And Miss Mary Potter, the school girl 
who had presented the flowers to the General, 
became, in later years, the first wife of a young man 
who was doubtless one of the on-lookers of this day. 
He was a son of the man who had given the address 
of welcome, and his name is known today wherever 



ROSALIND OF SQUAM ISLAND 



221 



the English langage is spoken. This name is Henry 
Wadsworth Longfellow. 

Several years after the visit of Lafaj^ette, the 
poet purchased at an auction a bread tray used at 
the banquet given the General, and this with other 
mementoes of the occasion may be seen at present at 
the Wadsworth-Longfellow House in Portland. 

— Ella Matthews Bangs. 

*His full name was, — Marie Paul Jean Roch Yves Gil- 
bert Motier, Marquis de La Fayette. 



ROSALIND OF SQUAM ISLAND 

ROSALIND Clough paused 
a moment on the broad 
steps of the great, white 
house. She was a demure little 
maid with wide brown eyes, the 
white cap on her dark curls giv- 
ing her face an almost Puritani- 
cal severity. There was some- 
thing sweet and winsome about 
the face, although the mouth 
was drawn with grave lines of 
anxiety. 

Before her in the fast-deep- 
ening twilight lay the broad expanse of the Sheep- 
scot River, quivering at its western verge with 
flashes of crimson and gold. One by one the lights 
twinkled forth in the houses of the hamlet of Wis- 
casset across the river. High above her on the white 
edge of the last cloud, that was resisting the advance 
of night, glimmered the first great star. 




Rosalind 



222 MAINE, MY STATE 

But peaceful as was the scene and all lier sur- 
roundings tliere was little quiet or rest in the 
troubled girlish mind. Far across the water he 
whom Eosalind loved best, her father, Capt. Clough, 
had been drawn by strange and riotous currents into 
the very depths of a whirlpool. In a way Rosalind 
had been aware of her father's interest in the events 
that had shaken the French nation. For many 
years he had voyaged thither, and his name was 
well known, along the quays of Havre and in the 
great merchant-houses of Paris, as that of a man 
of honor, whose word was as good as gold, one who 
could be trusted in all places and at all times — a true 
American. 

Often in the quiet evenings of early fall, or when 
the snow fell softly about the mansion on Squam 
Island, he Avould tell singular tales as his family 
gathered about the cheery blaze. The names of 
Louis, the weakling king, of the traitorous Duke of 
Orleans, of Danton and Marat, the wicked, reckless 
leaders of the revolution, had become household 
words to the children of the brave captain. But 
there was always one story that Rosalind would 
always draw closer to hear, for her father's voice 
grew gentler in tone and lingered with a sympathetic 
cadence whenever he spoke the name of the beau- 
tiful, ill-fated French queen, Marie Antoinette. 

Marie Antoinette, what marvelous visions that 
name evoked in the girlish mind! Marie Antoinette, 
haughty, wondrous fair, every inch a queen; Marie 
Antoinette in her sweet matronhood, loving wife and. 
fond mother in the stately old palace at Versailles; 
Marie Antoinette facing that blood-thirsty mob in 
the Tuileries, calm with the calmness of utter de- 



ROSALIND OF SQUAM ISLAND 223 

spair; Marie Antoinette in those last sad chapters, 
bereft of all that life held dear, standing in the dread 
shadow of the gaiillotine, always a beautiful, pathetic 
figure, a royal, noble woman to the end. 

Capt. Clough had been in France that fatal July 
day when the smouldering fury of the Paris mob had 
burst into flame, and, urged to insurrection, had 
stormed the old Bastille and captured the prison. 
During the terrible summer of 1792 he had seen the 
excited populace, swearing, howling, cursing and 
fighting, massacre the brave Swiss guards and 
thrust the royal family into a dungeon. Before he 
reached his quiet Maine home, for passage was slow 
in those days, France had become a republic. Before 
he again set foot in the streets of Paris, they had 
literally flowed red with blood, and Louis XVI. had 
met his fate on the guillotine. Capt. Clough 's let- 
ters home touched the hearts of his readers, for 
through his friendship with the loyalists, he had 
become familiar with the pitiful suffering of the 
royal family. ^ ^ The luxuriant hair of Marie Antoin- 
ette turned white in a single night,'' he wrote his 
daughter. 

Many times Eosalind had stolen out alone in the 
early twilight to watch for a vessel that did not 
come. Capt. Clough 's family had been expecting 
his return from France through many long autumn 
days. Knowing as they did of the turbulent times 
in France, and of how little account was the 
life of one who sympathized with the royal 
cause during the Reign of Terror, their minds were 
filled with anxiety. The mother was a dignified, 
matronly woman loving her children in her own 
quiet way; the father, clever sailor and business man 



224 MAINE, MY STATE 

though he was, had the mystic nature of a student 
and a dreamer, which his daughter had inherited. 
There was thus a strong chain of sympathy between 
them, a sort of mental telepathy that bound them to 
each other with a tie that distance could not break. 
Sometimes Rosalind would say at the breakfast 
table, ^'I shall hear from my father today,'' and in 
almost every instance the letter would arrive before 
night-fall. Occasionally she would cry out anx- 
iously, '^I am afraid my father is ill," and the next 
Avord received would tell of some indisposition. 
Neither tried to explain this strange sympathy, for 
it had existed so long it had become a part of their 
every-day lives. Naturally this time of suspense 
had borne heavily on Rosalind and somewhat sad- 
dened her: 

At last a letter had come to the uneasy watchers 
telling a strange tale of happenings across the sea. 
Capt. Clough wrote of the relentless hounding of 
royal sympathizers by Robespierre; how a word or 
a whisper in the morning had sent many an innocent 
man to his death before night; how all day the death 
carts rattled through the streets, as Robespierre 
from an upper window watched ^'the cursed aristo- 
crats" and mocked at their pain; and how it was 
rumored that she, the noble, the royal woman, must 
meet the fate of her murdered husband. 

i I There is a plot afoot, ' ' wrote Capt. Clough, * ' to 
rescue the queen from the guillotine. I scarce dare 
think, much less write of it to you, my dear ones, for 
every day I see men hurried to death without even a 
prayer, for less than this. But that you may be pre- 
pared in some measure for what may follow, I will 
write briefly concerning our hazardous undertaking. 



ROSALIND OF SQUAM ISLAND 225 

Friends of tlie unhappy queen liave spoken in private 
to friends of mine, and they in turn to me. My ship 
lies in the port at any moment ready for sailing. I 
await the word. Methinks I need say no more, my 
loved ones, for I write in haste and with a troubled 
heart. Well you know my sympathy has always 
been with her, even though I am an American-born 
citizen, and in America we know no king but God. 
My wife, prepare you the house, not as for a royal 
guest, but I say to you, for a broken-hearted woman. 
Wait and watch and pray, my dear ones, for me and 
for her gracious and deeply-wronged majesty, Marie 
Antoinette. '^ 

It was of this letter Rosalind was thinking as she 
scanned the river with anxious eyes. For days there 
had been stir and excitement in the great house on 
Squam Island. Every nook and corner had been 
cleaned and polished, and cleaned and polished 
again. On this night, and for many nights before, 
all had been in readiness for the strange guest. The 
brightest fires roared their cheeriest welcome, the 
larder groaned with its goodly store. But days and 
nights had come and gone with unrewarded vigil. 

Striving to throw off the vague unrest and dread 
that possessed her, Rosalind hastened down the path 
to the shore. She had felt all day a subdued excite- 
ment, a premonition. As she followed the long path 
she seemed lifted out of herself. It was the hour 
when Capt. Clough loved to draw his daughter's arm 
through his own and lead her down to the shore. All 
the cares, the anxieties, the sorrows of the past few 
weeks, fell from her like a cloak, and she lived again 
the hours when they had paced the beach together, 
when he had taught her the lore of the waters, and 



226 MAINE, MY STATE 

of the heavens, and led her with him along a pathway 
of stars. She loved to think, as she followed the 
path, that Mars shone as redly for him far away on 
the high seas as it did for her; that he, too, could see 
Yega's brightness, Venus 's beauty, and the shim- 
mering swarm of the Pleiades. 

Eosalind paced slowly back and forth on the 
beach. The damp wind on her face revived the 
memory of an hour that was gone; the fascination of 
the night was upon her. As she turned seaward, the 
darkness blotted even the horizon from view. The 
girl stood staring into the blackness. 

Then the vision came to her. Earth and sea and 
sky seemed to flash before her. Every tree, every 
bush on the opposite shore, every bend in the river 
burst plainly on her view. The glare pierced and 
tore the dusk like a flash of lightning. She closed 
her eyes, opened them, stared like one in a dream. 
On the broad current of the stream she beheld the 
masts, the deck, and hull of a vessel, and although 
it was like a barque of silver on water of crystal, 
she knew it was her father's own ship illumined with 
a strange and startling brightness. She saw the 
busy sailors, the captain on the deck, even beheld 
her father throw back his head in the old, familiar 
way; saw and recognized every detail of sail and 
mast and spar. And then she saw Her — the 
Woman. She was floating rather than walking upon 
that silvered deck, beautiful in countenance and 
form, tall, regal in carriage, richly gowned, with 
powdered hair and a face that held one spellbound, 
so filled was it with youth and grace. Rosalind saw 
her stretch out her hands with a sudden, beseeching 
gesture, as if pleading for release^ then raise her eyes 



ROSALIND OF SQUAM ISLAND 227 

to Heaven with a wonderful look of peace. The girl 
strove to move, to speak, but could make neither 
motion nor sound. Even as she struggled with the 
torpor that benumbed her, the brightness faded, 
there was darkness over island and sea, and the 
vision was gone. 

Half an hour later Madam Clough, sitting by the 
glowing fire, was roused from her sad musings by 
the sound of swift steps in the hall. The door was 
flung open to admit Rosalind looking like a wraith of 
the night with her hair blown about her wide eyes 
and pallid face. 

*^ Mother! Mother!" she cried, **My father is 
well. He will return. But she-she-Marie Antoin- 
ette, is dead!" 



Winter had cast its pall over the earth before 
Captain Clough sailed up the Sheepscot River 
to his home on Squam Island; and he brought beauti- 
fully carved furniture, draperies of velvet and silk, 
magnificent paper hangings, and even gowns of 
costly brocade, which the friends of Marie Antoin- 
ette had placed on board his vessel in the far-away 
French waters that their loved queen might have fit- 
ting surroundings in her exile. He told of the 
discovery of the plot on the eve of its consumma- 
tion; of the message, concealed and sent in a bouquet 
to the queen, and discovered by her jailers; of her 
swift execution; of the imprisonment of her true and 
faithful friends; of his own hairbreadth escape, and 
of the blood-curdling shouts of the mob, when it 
stormed through the streets bearing Marie Antoin- 
ette to her untimely doom. The night on which 



228 



MAINE, MY STATE 



Eosalind Clough had seen the strange vision was 
tliat of October 16, 1793, the date of the queen's 
execution. 



The old house which legend says w*as prepared 
for the queen's residence, has been moved to the 




The Marie Antoinette House 



opposite shore of Edgecomb, and its quiet rooms 
greet with colonial stateliness the visitors who come 
and go. One by one the relics that give substance to 
the story, have been carried away by souvenir 
hunters. Only a shred of tapestry and a piece of bro- 
caded stuff, on which is pinned a piece of paper in 
Capt. Clough 's handwriting, remain. This certificate 



ROSALIND OF SQUAM ISLAND 229 

asserts that the cloth was sent to Capt. Clough **by 
an eye witness ' ' and was a bit of the gown worn by 
the queen at her execution. Many of the tapestries 
were given away years ago ; the hangings have fallen 
to tattered rags; the quaint, old side-board stood for 
a quarter of a century in the old Knox House, 
Thomaston. Fair little Rosalind married and 
''lived happily ever after" like the princess in the 
fairy tale. Her first daughter was named Antoinette, 
and to this day the name remains in the family, 
handed down from daughter to daughter. 

— Maude Clark Gay. 

Our Banner 

Thy stars and stripes, O Banner bright, 

Wave grandly true from lofty height, 
Like signals from the hill-top flung. 

Or sounds from chimes in belfries hung. 
Thy stripes are pure without alloy, 

Thy folds are tremulous with joy, 
Thy stars shine ever clear and true 

As in God's firmament of blue. 

They tell of faith both rich and strong, 

They tell of triumph over wrong; 
Their luster bright shall never dim. 

For they are wrought through faith in Him. 
Each star a jewel is of light, 

Each stripe makes purpose strong to fight 
'Gainst wanton ill, to break or bend. 

Till Victory shall crown the end. 

Chorus 
Then cheer the Flag! Red, White and Blue, 

A trinity of colors true, 
Combin'd in one make truly great 

The Standard of our Ship of State. 

— H. W. Shaylor. 



WAR OF 1812-MAINE BECOMES 
A STATE 



''THE SEA-FIGHT FAR AWAY'' 

/ remember the sea-fight far away, 

How it thundered o'er the tide ; 
And the dead captains as they lay 
In their graves overlooking the tranquil hay 

Where they in battle died. 

— Longfellow. 

ONE EVENING about dusk in the early part of 
September, 1813, a little girl wrapped in a 
long, dark cloak miglit have been seen hurry- 
ing along a lonely road in a seaport town on the 
coast of Maine. 

The child walking swiftly, now and then running 
along the dusty road, saw none of the beauties of the 
night. She was trembling and gasping in great 
fear. Once as some shy, woodland creature fled 
from her approach, rustling through the under- 
brush, terror lent speed to her feet and she stopped 
not until brought suddenly to a halt, quivering and 
panting, by the sight of a black object cowering like 
some savage creature by the roadside. Not until she 
realized that it was only a stump could she keep on 
her way. 

All summer the British brig. Boxer, had been the 
terror of the Maine coast. None could tell where 
would be the next point of attack, and they had 

230 



^^THE SfiA-FIGtiT FAR AWAY^' 231 

stout hearts indeed whose faces did not pale and 
pulses beat faster at sight of a strange ship off shore. 
To the neighbor 's house which the child had just left, 
alarming news had been brought that day by some 
fishermen who had gone out in the early morning to 
fish near the White Islands. Hardly had the first 
catch been taken from the lines, when another small 
boat appeared, the rowers plying their oars with 
such vigor that the craft seemed fairly to leap 
through the water. As they drew near they raised a 
shout which caused the two fishermen to look at 
each other with startled eyes. A British ship had 
been seen the evening before near Monhegan. Only 
one meaning could be attached to this appearance. 
No time was lost by the small boats in reaching the 
harbor and in a short time the news had spread far 
and near. 

Little Elizabeth Stewart listened eagerly to her 
elders as they discussed plans for defense or flight. 
She had spent the afternoon with the neighbor's 
children and in the excitement had forgotten the 
passage of time until some chance remark caused 
her to remember that she had long overstayed her 
time and that her mother would be worrying. 
Besides, they at home did not know that the British 
were so near; she must warn them and quickly. But 
oh, the terrors of that short journey home ! 

Hark! what was that! Nearer came the sound, 
and now as she crouched in the shadows, she could 
distinguish the rapid hoofbeats of a horse. It was 
not far behind — there was a sharp clatter as the 
swift hoofs swept over the little bridge by the old 
pasture bars. "Who could be riding like that? What 
new danger threatened? Straining her eyes, she 



232 MAINE; MY STATE 

could see a man mounted on a white horse. Eeining 
in sharply beside her, he demanded sternly, **What 
is this? Who is hiding heref 

A half cry broke from the child; what a relief 
those familiar tones had brought to her. She sprang 
to the horse's side. 

^ * Oh, Mr. Gresham, I was afraid — I thought — oh, 
are the British coming f The hood fell back from 
her face showing it white in the moonlight. The 
man peered down from his lofty position. 

^'Why, 'tis James Stewart's little Elizabeth; 
what are you doing here, child?'* His voice had 
grown suddenly kind. 

*^I am going home, sir. Oh, I must liurry; father 
doesn't know about the British ships — do you think 
they will come tonight?" casting fearful glances 
about. 

John Gresham stooped and swung her up to the 
saddle and the horse, at a word, started eagerly 
forward. 

^^Nay, little maid, I cannot tell. There is cer- 
tainly a British ship between this place and Port- 
land, for I am just from the village and have talked 
with the men who saw her. But she may look for a 
richer place than our little settlement, or perhaps 
one of our own ships may rout her. ' ' 

Elizabeth, child though she was, felt the anxiety 
in his tones; he felt her tremble and went on more 
lightly. *^But here we are at the gate and here is 
father coming to look for you. Be not out so late 
again without a protector, little Elizabeth," he 
advised as he swung her to the ground. 

Tall James Stewart clasped her hand silently and 
then pressed forward to ask an eager question. 



''the sea-i^ight far away'* 233 

'^You have been in the village, Neighbor Gresham, 
what news there?" 

In a few hurried words, John Gresham revealed 
the danger of the settlement. *^I think it is the 
Boxer — she has been seen off this coast before. They 
may not come tonight but 'tis well to watch, ' ' he said 
as he started on. 

The thud of the horse's hoofs had died away as 
James Stewart, still holding Elizabeth's hand 
tightly, entered the fire-lighted kitchen of the low, 
substantial farmhouse. 

^^What is the news, James?" cried his wife. *^I 
have been so uneasy since Elizabeth left. Why, 
child, w^hat has happened to make you look so 
shaken 1 ' ' 

The father stood still for a moment before 
answering. Before the morrow's sun rose, it might 
be that this dwelling which had sheltered his father 
before him, would be ashes, and they themselves — 
where 1 

**Yes, Sally, there is news at last; I fear that the 
attack we have so long expected will be upon us 
soon. Neighbor Gresham has come from the village 
at full speed and says a British brig is off John's 
Bay. Best have the children lie down and perhaps 
they will sleep if we are not disturbed, but I shall 
watch. ' ' 

As he spoke he slipped the heavy bar across the 
door, bolted it, and then went from window to win- 
dow, closing the heavy w^ooden shutters and fasten- 
ing all securely. 

* * Then I shall watch, too, ' ' said his wife quietty, 
**I could not sleep." 



^ 234 MAINE, MY STATE 

Suddenly little seven-years-old Martha darted 
from her place before the tire and hung upon her 
father's hand. 

'^Oh, father,'' she implored, '^ don't stay here — 
don't! We shall all be burnt up if we do. Oh, let's 
harness Cherry and Tom and take our clothes and 
the brass andirons grandfather brought from Scot- 
land and go as far as we can. ' ' Her voice was shrill 
with fear and she tugged at his hand as if to draw 
him to the door. 

*'No, no, Martha," said her father gently, **we 
will not run away; there is nothing to be gained by 
that and much might be lost. Father will not let 
any harm come to you if he can help it. ' ' 

^' James," said his wife suddenly, ''is there not a 
chance that one of our ships might meet this Brit- 
isher and destroy her ? ' ' 

''Yes, there is a slight chance," he answered, 
"though the Boxer would give a stiff fight to any 
vessel not her equal in size and strength." 

"If it should be the Enterprise," she said in a 
low, strained voice, "you know our Thomas is with 
Captain Burrows, and if there should be a fight — " 
she broke off with a shudder. 

"We must hope for the best," her husband 
replied, though the hand which he lifted to take 
down his musket, trembled slightly. 

One by one the children, clinging to one another, 
fell asleep on a straw bed which had been dragged 
into one corner. From the opposite side of the room 
the tall clock commenced to strike the hour. James 
Stewart, sitting by the loophole in one of the shut- 
ters, counted the strokes. 



"the sea-fight ear away'' 235 

^^Ten o'clock," he said, ^^ Sally, I do not like to 
have you wear yourself out with watching; lie down 
with the children and rest while you may." His 
wife made no answer. With hands tightly clasped 
she leaned forward, eyes fixed, listening. Then with 
a sudden motion she flung open the shutter. 

^^Hark! what is that!" she whispered. For a 
moment to their straining ears came only the sighing 
of the light wind through the leaves and the 
plaintive cry of a whippoorwill. Then came a faint 
cry as of a far-off halloo, then only the soft whisper- 
ings of the September night. ^'Does it mean that 
they are coming?" asked the woman below her 
breath. 

'^It may have been only someone in the village," 
he replied, ''I cannot tell; we must be watchful.'^ 

The night wore slowly on and no further sight 
or sound met the straining senses of the watchers. 
As the morning broke and the birds began to twitter 
in the trees, a sweet relief came upon them. With 
cramped and weary limbs they rose from their posi- 
tion at the window. 

^ ^ They will not come now, ' ' said James Stewart. 
*^It is the Sabbath, Sally, let us thank God that it 
dawns in peace." 

Soon the children awoke rubbing their sleepy 
eyes. '^I dreamed that the British came," said 
little Elizabeth, * ^ but brother Thomas came in a ship 
with a great gun and saved us. Father, must we go 
to the meeting-house today!" 

* ^ Yes, surely, child, ' ' answered her father. ' ' We 
shall see all our neighbors there and learn what has 
occurred overnight and what plans have been 
made." 



236 Maine, m^ ltate 

So across the fields and pastures bright with 
autumn goldenrod they took their way. Everything 
was calm and peaceful this bright September morn- 
ing; war and death seemed far away. 

Little groups were gathered in front of the old 
meeting-house on the green common facing the dis- 
tant sea. One subject only was discussed. A highly 
nervous feeling ran through the groups, yet even this 
could not keep these devoted people from gathering 
at the usual time to worship in the old church which 
their fathers had built. 

The morning services were held, the noon hour 
came and went, and the afternoon worship began. 
The minister spoke with his usual earnest manner, 
but even he seemed to have caught the waiting, list- 
ening attitude of his people. At times he fumbled 
with the open Bible before him, ear inclined slightly 
toward the windows on his right, then his sermon 
swept on. The soft breeze came through the win- 
dows, rustling the leaves of the hymn-books. 

And then — all heard it, heavy, unmistakable — the 
distant boom of a cannon ! The preacher stopped in 
the midst of a sentence and all waited, breathless 
and pale. Again came the sound, another following 
closely upon it. 

^^Come, friends, to Kenniston's Hill!'* cried the 
minister, starting from his place. *^ Perchance we 
can see there !'* 

With one accord men, women and children rushed 
from the building and across the green. Little Eliz- 
abeth panted by her mother's side, a younger child 
held by each hand. 

**Do you think, mother, the British are coming T' 
she managed to cry. But her mother did not 



238 MAINE, MY STATE 

answer; her eyes were fixed upon those who had 
already gained the summit of the hill and stood gaz- 
ing seaward, hands shading their eager eyes. In a 
few moments they, too, had reached the hill-top. 

Far out near the dim sky-line lay a soft, gray 
cloud-like smoke; as they looked, it was lifted by the 
breeze and two dark objects lay disclosed. A puff of 
white smoke came from the larger of the two and a 
deep, sullen boom smote the ears of the listeners. 
Then the gray curtain settled again, shutting the 
two vessels from sight. The next time it rose their 
positions were slightly changed; each seemed to be 
mancBuvering for the advantage. The sound of the 
cannon came at intervals and the smoke rose and fell 
with the gentle wind. 

To the watchers on the hill the moments were 
heavy with anxiety. Some American vessel had 
engaged the British brig and their fate depended 
upon the issue. An hour passed. 

^^If the Boxer is beaten," said someone, *Hhey 
will go west toward Portland; but if she wins — '' he 
left the sentence unfinished and strained his eyes 
seaward. 

Within the last half hour the cloud of smoke 
seemed to have grown heavier; for perhaps fifteen 
minutes no sound of firing had been heard. Then 
the fitful breeze which had almost died away awoke 
to sudden life and, as if out of pity for the waiting 
people, raised the enshrouding veil once more. The 
vessels were slowly moving! but which way? The 
anxious hearts beat fast. Then a soft movement 
swept through the crowd as when the summer breeze 
rustles the leaves upon the trees. The minister 



«^^^„ „„. „^„„^ ^,„ 4 „,.„>> 



THE SEA-FIGHT FAR AWAY 239 

turned, his face glowing, and flung both hands 
toward heaven. 

*^ Friends!" he cried, ^^we are saved! We are 
saved! They are moving toward the west!" 

— Charlotte M. H. Beath. 

Note. — Many and varied accounts have come down to 
us of this famous battle between the Boxer and the Enter- 
prise, off the coast of Maine, which history calls one of the 
important naval engagements of the War of 1812. On 
Monday, Sept. 6, 181 3, the United States brig Enterprise 
came into Portland Harbor, bringing her prize, the British 
ship, Boxer, captured on Sunday, the 5th, after a well- 
fought battle lasting 45 minutes, off the shores of Pemaquid. 
Both commanders, Capt. William Burrows of the Enterprise 
and Capt. Samuel Blyth of the Boxer, were killed in the 
engagement. Both fell, mortally wounded, early in the 
action. The brave commander of the Enterprise remained 
on deck where he fell, refusing to be carried below. Rais- 
ing his head, he requested that the flag might never be 
struck. When the battle was won and the sword of the 
enemy presented to him, the dying hero clasped his hands 
and said : "I am satisfied. I die contented." That night he 
died. The Boxer fired the challenging shot at half past 
eight Sunday morning and surrendered at forty-five min- 
utes past three in the afternoon. The Enterprise brought 
into Portland sixty-four prisoners. She had lost but two 
men. Twelve were wounded. Great preparations were 
made for the burial of the two brave captains, neither of 
them yet thirty years old. Crowds of people from the 
neighboring towns and villages flocked in, on foot, on horse- 
back and some by ox team. The funeral ceremonies were 
very imposing and the two naval heroes were buried in 
Eastern Cemetery, Portland, where their graves are visited 
by many to this day. 



240 MAINE, MY STATE 

WHERE MAINE WAS MADE A STATE 

OVER a hundred years ago when travelers 
made the stage coach journey between Ban- 
gor and Boston, their favorite stopping-place 
for the night was in Freeport, at the Jameson Tav- 
ern, famous for its good cooking and comfortable 
beds. 

At that time Maine was a province, ruled by 
Massachusetts; and it was in 1820, at the Jameson 
Tavern, that the final papers of separation were 
signed making Maine a free and independent State. 

The old tavern still stands on the main street of 
the village and in 1915, the Maine Daughters of the 
American Revolution marked the house with a tablet 
so that the name and historical interest of the place 
might be preserved. 

Built in 1779 by Dr. John Hyde, the house was 
sold later to Landlord Jameson who made it one of 
the best taverns in the Province of Maine. It was 
built on a solid ledge and very large timber was used 
in its construction. Long afterward it was sold to 
a Mr. Codman who also kept it as a public house, but 
at the time the articles of separation were signed, it 
was known as the Jameson Tavern. 

The commissioners empowered to make Maine 
a State met in 1820 in the front north-east room 
of the tavern. Over a fortnight, these men who 
represented both Maine and Massachusetts, delib- 
erated and finally decided that Maine should give 
to Massachusetts $180,000 for her part of the 
public lands in the Province. Of this sum $30,000 
was in Indian claims which Maine assumed, and the 
remaining $150,000 was to be paid in forty years 




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242 MAINE, MY STATE 

with interest at five per cent. In the group of com- 
missioners which made this bargain were Timothy 
Bigelow of Groton, Mass., Levi Lincoln of Worces- 
ter, Mass., Benjamin Porter of Topsham and James 
Bridge of Augusta, Maine. These four chose Silas 
Holman of Bolton, Mass., and Lathrop Lewis of Gor- 
ham, Maine, to complete the board. Some time 
before this, the commissioners from Maine, joined 
by Daniel Rose of the Senate and Nicholas Emery of 
the House, had gone to Boston and discussed the 
matter with the Massachusetts commissioners. It 
was only after a long session, during which the board 
met in a number of Massachusetts towns and cities, 
that they came to Jameson Tavern and signed the 
final papers. 

Some people opposed statehood for Maine and 
feeling was intense, both for and against it. At 
meetings called in all the cities and villages on Mon- 
day, July 26, all citizens went to the polls and a 
majority voted for her independence. After this 
meeting, the commissioners met at Jameson Tavern 
and signed the final articles of separation. 

Since the tavern has become a private residence, 
many changes have been made. The low-posted 
bar-room is now the kitchen, but in the old time it 
was the chief room of entertainment for the guests. 
In this room, round the blaze in the big open fire- 
place, the famous judges and lawyers of Eastern 
Maine, tarrying on their way home from court, told 
strange tales of the road and whispered the latest 
political secrets of the day. 

In the north-east room the old wainscoting still 
remains, but the deep window seat has been taken 
out. In spite of changes there still clings to the old 



Maine's first governor 243 

house much of the charm of those far-away times 
when Jameson's Tavern was the favorite hosteh*y 
of the whole countryside; and loyal citizens should 
not forget that in this house in Freeport the com- 
missioners at that long ago meeting, signed the 
papers that made Maine a State. 

— Clara Nczvhall Fogg. 



MAINE'S FIRST GOVERNOR 

><^ STALWART country lad, in a crude liome- 
I I spun suit of his mother's weaving such as all 

V New England boys used to wear in the days 

when America was young, stood one bright autumn 
morning a century ago at a cross road of the high- 
way which leads from Portland to Portsmouth. 
Two coal black steers were nibbling at the grass 
along the roadside near the boy and showed as little 
haste as he to be on their way. The lad was young 
William King of Scarboro, who had that morning 
left his mother's home at Dunstan's Landing and 
had set out to make his fortune in the world, accom- 
panied only by the two black steers, which were his 
share of his dead father's property. 

Just where he should go to seek the fortune he 
was so confident of finding, was the problem which 
young King was facing there at the cross roads. 
Both highways invited him. On one hand, the road 
lay through long aisles of cool forest trees, while on 
the other a dusty brown ribbon of broken turf 
reached out through fertile fields and flowering 
meadows. Low-roofed farm-houses were visible 
here and there. Cattle were feeding in the fields 




Governor William King 



Maine's first governor 245 

and newly-planted crops of corn and potatoes gave 
promise of a splendid harvest. 

Suddenly a loud ^'Caw! Caw!" aroused the boy 
from his thoughts and, flying just above his head, he 
saw a huge black crow, looking for his breakfast 
among the tender, green tips of the corn. He 
watched the bird until it faded in a small black speck 
in the distance along the highway leading towards 
Portland. 

^^I'll follow the crow," decided William King, 
and, driving his steers before him, he took the route 
which led him first to Portland and eventually 
to Bath. 

The young man, scarcely twenty-one years old, 
whose destination was decided by the crow, later 
became the first Governor of Maine. Had not the 
crow pointed out the way, William King might have 
taken the Portsmouth Pike and a great statesman 
have been lost to the Pine Tree State. 

William King was born in Scarboro in 1768 and 
his family was one of the most illustrious in the 
State. His grandfather, Richard King, came from 
England and settled in Massachusetts in the 18th 
century. William was one of the younger members 
of the family and because of his father's early 
death did not have the educational advantages of 
his brothers. He entered the sawmill business in 
Topsham shortly after he was twenty-one and soon 
extended his business to large ship-building ven- 
tures. At the age of twenty-seven he had made a 
name for himself in politics. 

In the War of 1812, he took an active part in the 
defense of Maine against the English. For years he 
was the Maine representative to the Massachusetts 



246 MAINE, MY STATE 

Legislature and it was due largely to liis efforts that 
Maine was separated from the mother state in 1820. 
His people honored him by electing him their first 
governor and he filled the office for a year with 
honor and dignity. In 1821, he was called by Presi- 
dent Monroe to make one of a commission to settle 
the United States claims in Florida and left Maine 
for a time. He died at his home in Bath, July 17, 
1852, at the age of 85. In that city, Maine has 
erected over his resting place an imposing granite 
shaft. 

Such is a brief history of the great man's life, but 
side by side with these bare events are innumerable 
stories and incidents which give illuminating side- 
lights on the character of the State's first Governor. 

These personal touches, which give him the place 
he deserves in the hearts of Maine people of later 
generations, have escaped the pages of history and 
are to be learned only by sympathetic poring over 
old records and letters handed down by friends and 
relatives of the splendid old Governor's own day. 

A story of interest deals with the bringing of his 
bride to Bath by young William King, who had then 
become one of the most promising citizens of that 
city which he had adopted for his home. On a Sab- 
bath morning near the close of the 18th century, the 
first families of Bath were calmly making their way 
to the Old North Church. The ladies in elaborate, 
flaring silk gowns and quaint be-ribboned bonnets 
seemed to be occupied with other than their usual 
Sunday thoughts. They were talking excitedly in 
half-suppressed whispers, while to the right and left 
strict watch was kept for the approach of some 
looked-for stranger. 



Maine's first governor 247 

^'She was the belle of the season in Boston soci- 
ety last winter,'' murmured a stately dame to her 
companion as they paused at the entrance of the 
church. 

*^ Indeed, she is the greatest beauty of the year,'' 
commented a serious-faced gentleman to a group of 
his fellows. 

^^And as charming as she is beautiful," added 
another. 

^'And as wise as she is charming," remarked a 
dignified citizen in a military coat, who had just 
joined the group in the church-yard. 

^^Her gown should be of the latest Boston style," 
hopefully suggested a fashionably attired girl, 
whose thoughts seemed to have strayed to worldly 
subjects. 

The church bell tolled its final summons and the 
curious crowd passed indoors and settled down for 
morning worship. William King was that day to 
bring his bride to Bath and, as was the custom of the 
times, her first appearance was to be at the Sabbath 
service at the Old North Church. King was one of 
the most sought-after young men in Bath, while his 
bride was hailed as one of the beauties of the decade. 
The young statesman had been in Boston on state 
business when the charms of young Mistress Anne 
Prazier had captivated him. He had pressed 
his suit with ardor and had sent home glowing- 
accounts of his bride 's loveliness. 

Service had begun in the old church when its 
darkened hush was broken by a silken rustle and 
William King and his lady appeared. Down the 
aisle they moved, observed by all the eager watchers. 
The bride, indeed, in her grace fulfilled all expecta- 



248 MAINE, MY£.STATE 

tions. The bridegroom, his tall figure clad in the 
famous military coat with its vivid scarlet lining, 
and his face alight with pride, looked every inch the 
'^king'^ his name proclaimed him. 

The young people took their places in their pew 
and service continued. At its close, on the church 
green, the ladies and gentlemen of the congregation, 
prominent in the civil and social life of Bath, wel- 
comed Mrs. King to the place of leader, which she 
filled so graciously until her death. 

The years following the War of 1812, in which 
William King played a valiant part, were years of 
political strife for him. In the Massachusetts legis- 
lature, he put up a vigorous fight for the separation 
of Maine from the mother state. In 1820, when 
Maine became a commonwealth in its own right, he 
was one of the members of the legislative body which 
drew up its constitution and his personal genius as 
a statesman is responsible for some of its leading 
articles. At the first state election he was the one 
logical candidate for Governor and his election was 
practically unanimous. Everyone in Maine knew 
him, his political record was an open book and his 
personal popularity was phenomenal. For one year 
he served Maine as her first magistrate. 

Though entirely happy in his home life and suc- 
cessful in politics, with the church he was always 
out of harmony. His religious views were too lib- 
eral for Maine in those early years. The card par- 
ties held often in the big house were a source of 
never-ending controversy between him and the min- 
istry. The Governor frequently invited a group of 
intimates to the big house for a hand, at cards, and 
thus, in the long parlor of the King mansion with the 



Maine's first governor 249 

breeze from the Kennebec blowing gently through 
the room, many a quiet afternoon was passed. The 
old Governor was passionately fond of the game and 
would clap the cards down on the table with a thun- 
drous noise, but never was he known to be other 
than a perfect host. Always there was refreshment 
for the gentlemen and tea for the ladies. After the 
cards were put away, the huge coach of the Kings 
would be called and the guests whirled away to their 
homes behind the Governor's own fast horses. 

Some worthy member of the Old North Church, 
considering it his sacred duty to remonstrate with 
the Governor on his evil ways, took him to task with 
the remark : ^ ^ Card-playing means cheating. I could 
never refrain from it were I, perchance, to play. ' ' 

Quick as a flash came the retort from Gov. King 
whose temper Avas never of the smoothest: ^^I dare 
say that's true, but never fear, I never allow myself 
to play in such company as yours.'' 

Matters went from bad to worse until the Gov- 
ernor severed his connection with the Old North and 
with a sudden shifting of course joined the rival 
organization, the Old South. He tried in vain to 
induce his wife to join with him, though in later 
years he himself returned to the church of which he 
had first been a member. In explaining his difficul- 
ties with the church, he was wont to tell the follow- 
ing story: 

^'It's about like this," his Excellency would say. 
* ^ Once there was an obliging young chap of a wood- 
chuck who had dug a hole for his winter home and 
stored it full of nuts. The storms came on and it 
was bitterly cold. A shiftless skunk came along 
and, seeing the woodchuck's warm home, asked to be 



250 MAINE, MY STATE 

let in. Little woodchuck gave him a hearty wel- 
come. The skunk got warm and when the time came 
when he should have thanked his host and left, he 
refused to go. He stayed and stayed. He slept in 
the woodchuck's bed and ate the woodchuck's food, 
and pretty soon the woodchuck began to smell like a 
skunk and things got so bad that Mr. Woodchuck 
had to move out and spend the winter as best he 
could out in the cold and snow. That's about the 
way it is with me and the church. ' ' 

A huge tract of land in that portion of Maine 
where the village of Kingfield now flourishes, came, 
during his active political life, into Gov. King's 
I)ossession. He made frequent visits to it, and there 
under his patronage a settlement was made. On one 
of his visits, Mrs. King accompanied him and as she 
and the general were approaching the village, he 
called her attention to the beauties of the country- 
side and asked her what she thought would be an 
appropriate name for the town. Glancing over the 
fertile fields and across the hills, she quickly replied, 
^'Why not call it Kingsfield!" The village was so 
named, though in later years the "s" has been 
dropped. 

Towards the last of his life the mind of the splen- 
did old Governor lost much of its brilliancy and his 
later years were darkened by poor health, an 
enfeebled intellect, and a long series of domestic sor- 
rows. It was on July 17, 1852, at the age of 85 years, 
that he passed aw^ay in his home city. 

A visit to Bath reveals much of interest relating 
to the old Governor. The mansion by the Kennebec 
is now the site of King's Tavern, while, a few miles 
from the business section, a quaint stone house, with 




The Stone House 



252 



MAINE, MY STATE 



tall cathedral windows and with the gay garden and 
spreading trees of olden times, is still standing just 
as it was when Gov. King and his lady so royally 
welcomed their guests to their summer home. 

— lone Fales Winans. 




The State Seal 



THE STATE SEAL 253 

THE STATE SEAL "DIRIGO" 

MANY of the oldest families of Europe possess 
a coat-of-arms, in the design of which may 
be read, by those who understand, some- 
thing of the family history. In a description of a 
coat-of-arms are many odd-sounding terms — among 
them tincture, gules, argent, and the sinister and 
dexter sides. These are heraldic. 

In America, we have little familiarity with 
coats-of-arms, but each state has a seal, designed 
much after the same manner. The seal of Maine 
was designed by Dr. Benjamin Vaughan of Hallo - 
well. It was adopted by the Legislature, June 9, 
1820, the same year that Maine became a state. In 
the language of heraldry, the seal is described thus : 
^'A shield, argent, charged with a pine tree; a Moose 
Deer at the foot of it, recumbent. Supporters: on 
dexter side, an Husbandman, resting on a scythe; on 
sinister side, a Seaman resting on an anchor. In the 
foreground, representing sea and land, and under 
the shield, the name of the State in large Roman 
capitals, to wit ; — M A I N E, the whole surmounted 
by a crest, the North Star. The motto in small 
Roman capitals, in a label interposed between the 
shield and the crest, viz; Dirigo.'' 

Each figure and emblem in the design was chosen 
because it was symbolic of the State. The moose 
deer is a native animal of Maine, which retires at 
the approach of human beings. In his recumbent 
and undisturbed position he denoted the extent of 
unsettled lands, where generations of men might 
settle, whose spirit of independence should be unre- 
stricted as the range of the moose deer. 



254 MAINE, MY STATE 

The supporters of the shield, the Husbandman 
and Seaman, represent, first, agriculture, and second, 
commerce and fisheries; and both indicate that the 
State is supported by these occupations of its inhab- 
itants. The North Star in the crest indicates the 
most northern State in the Union. 

The stately pine with its straight body and ever- 
green foliage, represents the State. The motto, 
Dirigo, means ^'I Direct." 

THE BLOODLESS AROOSTOOK WAR 

THE NORTHEASTERN boundary of the United 
States had been a bone of contention between 
this country and Great Britain for two gener- 
ations until in 1839, the controversy culminated in 
the Bloodless Aroostook War, which, though tame 
in its conclusion, undoubtedly hastened the final set- 
tlement of the question, through the Webster-Ash- 
burton treaty of 1842. 

The St. Lawrence River was the northern bound- 
ary of both Nova Scotia (then comprising New 
Brunswick) and New England, until the treaty of 
1763, when France ceded both Canada and Nova 
Scotia to England. The English king then estab- 
lished new provinces, among them Quebec, com- 
posed of a part of Canada north of the St. Lawrence 
and of Nova Scotia south of the river. The south- 
ern boundary of this was ^^the highlands which 
divide the rivers that empty themselves into the St, 
Lawrence River from those that empty themselves 
into the Atlantic Ocean." The treaty of 1783 
between Great Britain and the colonies at the close 
of the Revolution provided that the southern bound- 



THE BLOODLESS AROOSTOOK WAR 255 

ary of Quebec should be the northern boundary of 
Massachusetts (then comprising Maine), the east- 
ern bouudary being a line running due north from 
the St. Croix River. 

It was recognized by both nations that the 
boundary line was very indefinite, and in the Treaty 
of Ghent at the close of the War of 1812, provision 
was made for its adjustment by Commissioners 
appointed by both countries, also in the event of 
their disagreement for the reference of the matter to 
a '' friendly sovereign." 

Commissioners were appointed and a survey was 
commenced in 1817. In 1818 the British surveyor 
exploring northward from the St. Croix River, dis- 
covered Mars Hill and gave it as his opinion that 
this was the ''Highlands" mentioned in the treaties. 
He proposed to discontinue the survey along the 
highlands just south of the St. Lawrence River, to 
return to Mars Hill and explore thence westerly, 
thereby making about one-third of Maine British 
territory. IVom this time on England claimed all 
country north of Mars Hill. Of course the surveyors 
disagreed, the work was abandoned, and the Com- 
mission, after sitting five years, dissolved. 

This was the condition of affairs when Maine 
became a State in 1820. In 1827 the King of the 
Netherlands was selected as umpire, according to 
the provisions of the Treaty of Ghent, and in 1831 
he announced his decision. Instead of determining, 
however, what the wording of the treaty meant, he 
evidently ''split the difference" and put the line 
about half way between the Mars Hill line claimed 
by the British and the old "Highlands" boundary 
claimed by America, about where it is today. 



256 MAINE, MY STATE 

Neither Nation was satisfied; the people of Maine 
were very indignant and the United States refused 
to accept the decision. 

In the meantime settlements were being made 
along the northern frontier. The French Acadians, 
driven from Nova Scotia by the English as told in 
Longfellow's ^ ^ Evangeline, " crossed the Bay of 
Fundy, went up the St. John River to Grand Falls, 
over which they decided no British warship could 
follow them, and made settlements from the Falls up 
the river many miles. These settlements were 
incorporated as the town of Madawaska. In 
attempting to hold an election in 1831 for representa- 
tive to the Maine Legislature, the settlers were 
arrested, tried, convicted and sentenced to Frederic- 
ton jail by the New Brunswick authorities. 

One John Baker from Kennebec County, who had 
settled in that same region, reaching it by way of the 
Kennebec River and a short carry to the headwaters 
of the St. John, was also arrested and cast into Fred- 
ericton jail for having on his premises a flagstaff 
with a rude representation of the American eagle 
upon it. 

In 1837, Ebenezer Greeley of Dover, Maine, 
employed by the United States to take the census of 
the people along the St. John River, was arrested 
and taken prisoner to Fredericton jail by the 
Provincial authorities. Thus was Great Britain 
asserting her claims. 

All this land in dispute included the greater part 
of the Aroostook of the present day, then belonging 
to Washington and Penobscot counties and not made 
into a separate county until late in March, 1839. This 



THE BLOODLESS AROOSTOOK WAR. 



257 



was the finest of tiinberland. Each side claimed 
that the other was cutting timber unlawfully. 

When the Legislature assembled in January, 
1839, the people of Maine had become thoroughly 
angry, for the trespassing had become more bold, 
not only in the Madawaska region but in the whole 
territory north of Mars Hill. Lumber crews from 
New Brunswick were working along the Aroostook 
and Fish Rivers. The Governor, reporting these 
depredations, recommended that the State Land 

Agent be instructed to pro- 
ceed to the Aroostook re- 
gion and break up the lum- 
ber camps, and the Legis- 
lature so instructed. This 
may be regarded as the be- 
ginning of the famous 
Bloodless Aroostook War. 
The State Land Agent 
that year was Rufus Mcln- 
tire of Parsonsfield, a law- 
yer who had represented 
Maine in Congress for four 
terms and of marked abil- 
ity. Mr. Mclntire employed 
Major Strickland of Ban- 
gor, sheriff of Penobscot 
County, to accompany and 
assist him. They left Ban- 
gor Feb. 5th, accompanied 
by a civil posse of 200 men, 
and proceeded to the Aroostook River by what is 
now called ' ^ The Old Aroostook Road ^ ^ from Matta- 
wamkeag through Sherman and Patten to Masardis. 




Rufus Mclntire 

Land Agent 



258 MAINE, MY STATE 

The National Government, foreseeing hostilities, had 
bnilt this road to Fort Kent in 1837. 

The Canadian trespassers, hearing of this move- 
ment, supplied themselves with arms from the arse- 
nal at Woodstock, N. B., and prepared to stand their 
ground. They numbered nearly 300, but when 
they found that the sheriff had brought a six-pound 
brass cannon from Lincoln they concluded that dis- 
cretion was the better part of valor, and retired. 

The Land Agent followed them down the Aroos- 
took River on the ice, capturing about twenty men. 
The posse encamped for the night at the mouth 
of the Little Madawaska Stream between the Cari- 
bou and the Fort Fairfield of the present day. 

There was no settlement at Caribou. Lideed, 
one of Caribou's very first settlers was Ivory Hardi- 
son of Winslow, who came that winter with the 
soldiers and, seeing the possibilities of the new 
country, stayed and sent for his family. Much of 
northern Aroostook was settled afterwards either 
through the return of the soldiers or their reports of 
the country. 

To return to our story, Mr. McLitire himself, 
with three companions, proceeded down the river to 
the house of one Fitzherbert, in what is now Fort 
Fairfield village, under appointment to meet the 
British Land Warden, though it was reported by 
political enemies that he had gone there in 
order that he might have a feather bed to sleep on! 
Be that as it may, the house was surrounded during 
the night by about forty Canadians, and Mr. Mcln- 
tire and his companions were taken prisoners and 
carried on an ox-sled to Woodstock, some fifty miles, 
and thence to Fredericton jail some sixty miles far- 



THE BLOODLESS AROOSTOOK WAR 



259 



ther. Meanwhile Major Strickland linrried back to 
Augusta to give the alarm. 

Sir John Harvey, governor of New Brunswick, 
declaring that ^ ' hostile invasion would be repelled, ' ' 
called for a draft for immediate service, and on Feb- 
ruary 13th demanded of the Governor of Maine the 
recall of the State forces from Aroostook. The 




Major Hastings Strickland 

State Legislature answered by immediately order- 
ing out one thousand of the militia, appropriating 
$800,000, and a day or two later, ordering a draft of 
10,000 men. Meanwhile New Brunswick was mar- 
shalling her forces and 'Hhe war was on!" 

Our soldiers started on tlieir northward march 
singing to the tune of ^^Auld Lang Syne" 



260 MAINE, MY STATE 

"We are marching on to Madawask to fight the trespassers, 
We'll teach the British how to walk and come off con- 
querors, 
We'll have our land right good and clear for all the English 

say, 
They shall not cut another log nor stay another day. 
Come on! brave fellows, one and all, the Red Coats ne'er 

shall say 
We Yankees feared to meet them armed so gave our land 

away. 
Onward! my lads, so brave and true, our Country's right 

demands 
With justice and with glory fight for these Aroostook 
lands." 
Houlton, first settled in 1807, liad been a U. S. 
Military Post since 1828. Major Kirby command- 
ing the garrison there was requested by the Gov- 
ernor to cooperate with the State forces. Kirby 
declined, fearing to compromise the United States, 
the National Government still holding aloof. 

In the meantime, the men left behind by Land 
Agent Mclntire fell back to Masardis. Upon the 
arrival of reinforcements, they went down the river 
to the mouth of Presque Isle stream, a little below 
which they left the ice and cut across by a rough 
portage to Letter D plantation, then a very small 
settlement of Canadians who had come up by way 
of the St. John River. Here the men encamped, 
built a boom in the river to hold the logs and com- 
menced the erection of a fort, named after Governor 
Fairfield. They also captured a number of ox- 
teams, their drivers, and, best of all, the British 
Land Warden McLaughlin, with a companion, so 
that on February 17th the citizens of Bangor were 



THE BLOODLESS AROOSTOOK WAR 261 

diverted by the sight of British prisoners escorted 
through their streets. 

The Bangor Daily Whig and Courier of that date 
was moved to wrath and said, ^'It is worthy of 
remark and remembrance that our Land Agent, 
when passing through Woodstock, was greeted with 
jeers and insults by British subjects, but when the 
British Land Agent rode through this city, although 
1,000 people assembled in the streets, he was suffered 
to pass in silence. Not a lip was opened nor 
an insult offered." Moreover, McLaughlin was 
lodged at the Bangor House where it was said that 
he *^ fared sumptuously." At the same time the 
^^Whig" admonished the people to rise and ^'per- 
adventure, demolish the prison at Fredericton, so 
long a standing monument to our disgrace. ' ' A day 
or two later, the fiery "Whig" exclaimed, "Our 
State has been for the third time invaded and our 
citizens arrested and incarcerated in a FOREIGN 
JAIL! The first time Mr. Baker and his neighbors, 
next Mr. Greeley, and now the Land Agent. We have 
remonstrated long enough and to no purpose. We 
now appeal to arms. As we are in the midst of a 
great excitement it behooves us all to keep calm and 
cool [!!!] Expresses are passing every day through 
this city from Aroostook to Augusta and back. The 
artillery has been forwarded and large quantities of 
ammunition. Twenty men are engaged at the 
foundry casting balls." Evidently Maine's Minis- 
ter of Munitions believed in "speeding up" the war, 
so much so that in his excitement a solitary bullet 
mould was forwarded by express and lead for the 
bullets sent later by ox-team! 



262 Maine, my staTE 

Looking over the dusty files of tlie "Whig," one 
can see that 

"There was mounting in hot haste, the steed, 
The mustering squadron and the clattering car 
Went pouring forward with impetuous speed 
And swiftly forming in the ranks of war." 

Bangor was as bnsy as "Belginm's capital" the 
night before the battle of Waterloo. Within a week 
from the time of the draft, 10,000 of the State Militia 
had passed through the city on the way to Aroos- 
took, over the Military Road built in 1832 by 
the Federal Government, through Macwahoc and 
Haynesville to the garrison at Houlton, headed this 
time for the frontier rather than the Aroostook 
River. 

Some of the troops stayed at Houlton two weeks, 
waiting for their side-arms (and possibly for the 
bullets), meanwhile spending their spare time at the 
garrison watching the U. S. regulars drill. Then 
they continued their march northward b}^ the rough 
road laid out to the Presque Isle stream by the 
Washington County Commissioners in 1833, but 
hacked through by the State only as far as Monti - 
cello. From there on they took lumber roads where 
they could be found through the almost unbroken 
wilderness, and cut their own road the rest of the 
way by spotted trees to Fairbanks Mills on the 
Presque Isle stream, then a settlement of only three 
families, now the town of Presque Isle. Someone 
on the expedition wrote back to the Whig from Fair- 
banks Mills, ' ' Of all roads commend me to that upon 
which we have travelled from Houlton to this jump- 
ing-off place for extreme roughness and the length 



THE BLOODLESS AROOSTOOK WAR 263 

of tlie miles. ^' Here they encamped where is now 
the well-known Parsons farm. 

From thence the soldiers went across by the 
portage to Fort Fairfield, where they assisted in the 
bnilding of the fort and blockhouses according to 
plans drawn by Col. Eobert E. Lee of the U. S. Army, 
who was afterwards commander-in-chief of the Con- 
federate Army. The troops were also stationed for 
garrison duty at different points on the road running 
along near the frontier, erecting temporary defences. 

An appeal having been sent by the State of 
Maine, the National government at Washington 
awoke to the seriousness of the situation, authorized 
the raising of 50,000 troops and $10,000,000, and 
oi'dered Gen. Winfield Scott to Maine. Scott arrived 
in Augusta March 5th and immediately opened 
negotiations with Gov. Harvey through Major Kirby 
of the Houlton garrison. The result was that on 
March 23d Harvey agreed to the terms of the settle- 
ment made by Gen. Scott, who was afterwards called 
the ^^ Great Pacificator'' as a joke. On March 25th 
the same terms were agreed to by Gov. Fairfield, 
who immediately recalled the troops from Aroos- 
took, with the exception of a small force left at Fort 
Fairfield, and the prisoners on both sides were 
released. 

Thus ended the Bloodless Aroostook War with 
the loss of only one man and he died of consumption. 
The fear expressed by Gov. Fairfield in his farewell 
address to the soldiers that ^^tlie blood of our citi- 
zens was going to be shed by British Myrmidons" 
jjroved groundless. The ^^War" has been regarded 
as more or less of a huge joke, yet it was no joke to 
the patriotic men who left their homes in the dead of 



264 MAINE, MY STATE 

winter and marched some two hundred miles 
through the deep snows of the Northern Maine wil- 
derness where the temperature frequently drops 
to 40° below zero. Teams were taken out of the 
woods, tools and bedding from the lumber camps, 
in some instances whole crews enlisted, and 
farmers and mechanics laid down their work. 
They encamped wherever night found them, in 
houses, barns, bough camps and sometimes in the 
snow beside the road. Their food was mainly 
hardtack and salt pork, though they apparently got 
what they could to eat along the road, for the 
*^Whig'' afterwards published an appeal for aid to 
the Aroostook settlers, as the soldiers had eaten 
them out of house and home ! Their regulation uni- 
forms were not nearly warm enough, but we read 
that the government quickly made up this lack by 
the addition of thick red shirts and pea green 
jackets. 

Eidiculous or not, the Aroostook War was an 
important incident in international history, and 
reflects much credit upon the patriotism of Maine. 
The promptitude with which our forces were put 
upon the ground to resist seeming aggression, with- 
out doubt had much influence in the negotiations that 
followed. The whole question was settled three 
years later by the Webster-Ashburton treaty, but 
that *4s another story." 

— Stella King White. 



CIVIL WAR PERIOD 



THE RETURNED MAINE BATTLE FLAGS 

Nothing but flags — but simple flags, 

Tattered and torn and hanging in rags ; 

And we walk beneath them with careless tread, 

Nor think of the hosts of the mighty dead 

That have marched beneath them in days gone by, 

With a burning cheek, and a kindling eye, 

And have bathed their folds with their young life's tide. 

And dying, blessed them, and blessing, died. 

Nothing but flags — yet, methinks, at night. 
They tell each other their tales of fright ! 
And dim spectres come, and their thin arms twine 
'Round each standard torn — as they stand in line. 
As the word is given — they charge ! they form ! 
And the dim hall rings with the battle's storm ; 
And once again, through the smoke and strife. 
Those colors lead to a Nation's life. 

Nothing but flags — yet they're bathed with tears ; 
They tell of triumphs — of hopes. — of fears ; 
Of a mother's prayers — of a boy away. 
Of a serpent crushed — of the coming day; 
Silent, they speak — and the tear will start, 
As we stand beneath them with throbbing heart. 
And think of those who are ne'er forgot, 
Their flags come home — why come they not? 

Nothing but flags — yet we hold our breath. 

And gaze with awe at those types of death ; 

Nothing but flags — yet the thought will come, 

The heart must pray though the lips be dumb ! 

They are sacred, pure, and we see no stain 

On those dear loved flags come home again ; 

Baptized in blood, our purest, best. 

Tattered and torn, they're now at rest. 

— Moses Owen. 
265 



266 MAINE, MY STATE 

HIS FIRST THRILL OF PATRIOTISM 




o 



William Conway, from a sketch 

from life by William Waud. 

Copyright 18&7, by 

The Century Co. 



NE HOT AFTER- 

noon in August of tlie 
year 1906, a little lad 
with sunny liair and sunny 
disposition, stood with a lit- 
tle party of veterans on the 
steps of the Bay View House 
in the little town of Camden. 
He was not more than nine 
years old and was a long 
way from home, so he kept a 
tight hold of his grand- 
father's strong hand, while 
he watched the forming of a 
long procession. 
An old-fashioned buckboard, seating nine, drew 
up with a flourish in front of the steps. ''Come on, 
Doctor, here is our carriage," said one of the party 
and the veterans cautiously descended the steps and 
climbed into the high seats. It was the good fortune 
of the lad to sit beside the orator of the day. A 
famous general, former governor and ex-president 
of Bowdoin College was General Joshua h. Cham- 
berlain. His thoughts were busy with the words he 
was to speak a few moments later and he talked very 
little on the way to the spot where that day they 
were to dedicate a massive granite boulder to one 
of the heroes of the Civil War — the only enlisted 
man in the country to have the honor of a monu. 
ment erected by the public to him alone, and 
the only Jackie in the service who ever had a salute 
of twenty-one guns. 



HIS IIF&T lERIIL OF PATRIOTISM 267 

The music was stirring. Seven battlesliips, 
headed by the ''Maine" of the Atlantic fleet, prondly 
rode at anchor in the bay, while five gray little 
destroyers lurked in the shelter of their huge hulk. 
Over all waved peacefully ''the Stars and Stripes" 
in the sweet, summer breeze. An eager throng of 
young and old pressed around the veterans. Several 
speeches were made by town authorities. The day 
was hot and the lad was small. Try as he would, the 
white lids would droop over the sleepy eyes. With 
a start he would waken and look off at Mount Battle 
with its deep blue shadows or down to the curving 
edge of the sea, where the wavelets dimpled and 
danced in the sunlight. 

Then the grand old General arose and began his 
eulogy, saying, ' ' Why are we gathered here today 1 ^ ^ 
No more desire for sleep came to the big blue eyes 
fastened in hero worship on the man in blue. Two 
small ears absorbed every word that was uttered. 
This was the story the General told. 

' ' We come here to commemorate not a deed done 
in the body but an act of soul. The refusal of a 
manly spirit to bend the body to the dishonoring of 
his country's flag. * * * The story in words is sim- 
ple. The scene is the U. S. Navy Yard at Pensacola. 
The day is the 12th of January, 1861. The occasion 
is the appearance, on that day, of two gentlemen, 
one of them formerly an officer of the Navy, claiming 
to be commissioners of Florida and supported by a 
large force of armed men, demanding the surrender 
of that Navy Yard with all its munitions. 

"It was a surprising demand. The United 
States was not at war with the State of Florida. 
This ground was never a part of that state, but was 



268 MAINE, MY STATE 

a port and naval station of the United States twenty 
years before Florida was made a state of the Union. 
The demand seemed to have stupefied the captain 
commanding. The disloyal sentiment in that part of 
the country was well known to him. Positive orders 
to be vigilant in the protection of his post had been 
sent him from Washington. He had a company of 
faithful marines, and two ships-of-war under his 
orders were lying within range. Yet upon the de- 
mand of these two men, he at once surrendered all 
the stores of the Pensacola Navy Yard and left its 
officers and men to be treated as prisoners of war. 

^'The order to haul down the flag of the United 
States was passed from the executive officer to the 
senior lieutenant, both of them open sympathizers 
with the Confederate cause ; then it came to William 
Conway, a veteran quartermaster of our Navy, Vv^ho, 
receiving the order, straightened himself up in body 
like his spirit, and to the face of his official superiors 
gave this answer: 

* * ' That is the flag of my country. I have given 
my life to it. I will not haul it down!' They 
threatened to cut him down for disobedience, but he 
stood fast in his refusal. He was placed under 
arrest. Other less noble hands were found and the 
old flag came down. The face of high noon beheld 
it darkened in the dust. 

^'Of the officers who were actors in this ignoble 
story, two at once entered the Confederate service. 
The surrendering Captain was court-martialed and 
mildly punished by five years ' suspension from com- 
mand and a public reprimand. 

^'A testimonial of admiration, with a commemo- 
rative gold medal, was sent to Conway by New Eng- 



HIS FIRST THRILL OF PATRIOTISM 269 

land men in California, and was presented to him 
accompanied with a highly commendatory personal 
letter from the Secretary of the Navy, on the qnarter 
deck of the battleship ^^Mississippi" amidst the 
applause of the whole ship's company. Conway 
continued in his station in the navy quiet and unno- 
ticed. Unnoticed, also, he died and was buried in a 
soon forgotten grave in Brooklyn Navy Yard. 

* ^ It is, as I have said, a simple story. The actor 
in it did not dream he was a hero, did not imagine he 
was to be noticed, except for punishment for diso- 
bedience of orders. He was not acting for the eyes 
of men, but from the behest of a single and manly 
soul, daring to be true amid every circumstance. No 
nameless grave could hide that manhood. Today, 
the man and his flag stand on high together. 

**What is a flag? It is the symbol of a faith, an 
authority, a power, to be held aloft, to be seen and 
known, to be defended, vindicated, followed, borne 
forward in the name and token of its right. Among 
human rights, we hold that of country supreme. For 
this we reverence and love the flag and are sensitive 
of its honor at the cost, if need be, of our lives. If 
we can take in this thought, we can appreciate the 
conduct of William Conway. He exemplified honor, 
truth to trust, keeping of faith, loyalty to principle. 

^^He could not have been legally blamed, if he 
had obeyed the orders of his superior officers. It was 
not the simple hauling down of the flag. That came 
down with tender glory at every sunset. He dis- 
obeyed orders — to obey the greater covenant with 
his country! This is what I call a lofty loyalty. 
Then, too, it was heroic courage. This one man, 
William Conway, born in far-away Camden, Maine, 



270 MAINE, MY STATE 

taking life from the breath of your mountain and 
your sea, he alone refusing to be the creature of his 
environment, because he was the creature of his God ! 
Think you we can confer honor on him^ He it is 
who has done us honor and we tell the world that he 
is ours. That is our glory, all the rest is his." 

The General ceased speaking amid great ap- 
plause. The exercises were over. 

The little lad had heard war stories often and he 
knew the Greek and Roman tales of wandering 
Ulysses and burning Troy. The knights of old and 
the vikings bold were household words; yet, never 
in his nine brief 3^ears had he been so thrilled by 
voice or story. Schools had taught him to salute his 
flag and home had taught him to honor his country, 
but the gray-haired General had brought to his little 
heart its first real throb of patriotism. 

His trying moments of speech-making over, the 
General felt in a social mood. ''Tell me, Doctor,'' 
said he, ''whose child is the boy!" "My 
daughter's," answered the old surgeon. "Yes, yes, 
surely, I knew that. But I mean, who is his father?" 
The Doctor gave the father's name. The General 
smiled a slow, sweet, satisfied smile. "I knew I saw 
a resemblance. Yes, he was one of my boys at 
Bowdoin. I never forget them and I meet them 
wherever I go." 

The buckboard drew up in front of the hotel once 
more and before they descended, the General laid 
his hand with a caressing firmness oh the bright hair 
of the child. "My boy," said he, "I want you 
alw^ays to remember this day. The ranks of our 
Loyal Legion are fast thinning out. Never again 
will it be your good fortune to ride in the same car- 



HIS FIRST THRILL OF PATRIOTISM 



271 



riage with so many military men of the Rebellion. 
Take a good look at ns and never forget ns or the 
love of conntry I have tried to put into your heart 
to-day. ' ' 

The child looked around him. First he saw his 
dear friend, General Charles K. Tilden, from whose 
lips he had heard of that marvelous escape from 

Libby Prison, a man hon- 
ored by all who knew him. 
Next there came that hero 
and well-beloved Governor, 
General Selden Connor. 
On the seat beyond was 
Rear- Admiral Robley D, 
Evans, whose war vessels 
were waiting for him in the 
offing. Next came General 
Charles Hamlin, the son of a 
still more noted man, and 
the number was completed 
by Gen. Chamberlain and his 
own kind grandfather, who 
was a colonel and a surgeon 
all through the War. 

And the little lad never 
forgot the GeneraPs words. 
When the time came he, too, 
w^as ready to give to his 
country the best there was 




" When the Time Came He, Too, 
was Ready." 



in him. 



-Louise Wheeler Bartlett, 



272 MAINE, MY STATE 

THE HERO OF LITTLE ROUND TOP 

AMONG her heroes, Maine will always have a 
place for Gen. Joshua Lawrence Chamber- 
lain, *Hhe Hero of Little Round Top." 

Little Round Top was a hill on the field of 
Gettysburg, Pa., where a decisive battle of the Civil 
War was fought and where the gallant troops of the 
North repulsed the attacks of the Southern armies 
in a fierce, hand-to-hand conflict that was marked by 
heroism and devotion, on both sides. 

Here, on a hot day in July, two days before the 
anniversary of American Independence of that year, 
the troops of the 20th Maine Infantry, forming the 
extreme left of the National defence, sustained the 
assaults of Gen. Longstreet on the extreme right of 
the Confederate armies, and, turning again on them, 
drove them from the field, saved the heights and 
took many Confederate prisoners, leaving the hill- 
top strewn with dead and wounded. 

The leader of the Northern troops in this heroic 
stand for the Union on Little Round Top was Gen- 
eral Chamberlain, a soldier, a scholar, a statesman, 
afterward a Governor of Maine and President of 
Bowdoin College and ever a gentleman of winsome 
and gentle manner, great in peace as he was in war. 

When the war broke out in 1861, Gen. Chamber- 
lain was only 28 years of age, a Professor at Bow- 
doin, from which he had been graduated six years 
before. He was born in Brewer, Maine, on a farm 
and, by his own scholarly attainments, his fine bear- 
ing and his nobility of character, had attained 
supremacy in many branches of work. When the 
war broke out he immediately offered himself to his 



THE HERO OF LITTLE ROUND TOP 



273 



country. After lie had become famous, a lady once 
asked him how he happened to have been in the Civil 
War. ^^ Madam/' said he, '^I didn't happen.'' He 
did not '* happen" to be in the war; he went, as a 




General Joshua L. Chamberlain 



soldier should go, eager to be of service to human 
freedom. He was given a lieutenant's commission; 
became Colonel; he saved Little Eound Top, the 
most important position of the great battle of 



274 MAINE, MY STATE 

Gettysburg against a foe that outnumbered Ms 
troops three to one, and before the end of the Civil 
War, he was a Major-General of the Union armies. 

He was a very handsome man, erect, tall, with a 
flashing eye, a strong, musical voice. Apparently 
regardless of danger he was willing to lead his mi^n 
into any place where duty called. In the bloody 
battle of Petersburg, he was leading his troops to 
assault when a bullet passed through his body. He 
believed the wound to be mortal. He felt his life- 
blood ebbing away with his strength; yet he stood, 
leaning upon his sword, ordering the advance. Thus 
he stood until the last man of his command had 
passed him; and then, when no soldier of his should 
see him fall, he fell to earth and was carried from the 
field, as though dead. Six times was he wounded 
during the war and for all of his life, afterward, he 
suffered continually. At Little Round Top, he was 
fearfully wounded in the charge that passed up the 
hill in which the Maine boys drove the Southern 
soldiers from the hill, capturing over 300 Confed- 
erate prisoners in the assault. As he lapsed intO' 
unconsciousness, he grasped firm hold of a little 
bush beside which he had sunk. Years afterward,, 
when Gettysburg had become a memory, he still 
retained the impressions of that moment and he said, 
"I felt that if I let go of that little shrub, I should 
die. I thought that with release of that, my soul 
would leave my body. ' ' And so, in the intervals of 
pain and unconsciousness, he kept fast hold until he 
was carried from the battle-field to be restored later 
to health and strength. 

From Gettysburg to Appomattox, Gen. Cham- 
berlain, in spite of all his wounds, was able to follow 



THE HERO OF LITTLE ROUND TOP 275 

the course of the victorious armies of the North. 
Appomattox was the last great battle-field of the 
war. It was here that the Army of General Robert 
E. Lee laid down its arms, stacked its battle-flags 
and with generous terms of surrender from General 
U. S. Grant, dispersed sadly to its homes. "When 
the historic moment for the surrender came and 
when it became the duty of General Grant to receive 
Gen. Lee's sword in token of complete surrender, it 
was Gen. Chamberlain who was deputed to receive 
the sword of the great Southern general. Seated 
on his horse, his uniform soiled by smoke and dust. 
Gen. Chamberlain watched the ragged Confederate 
troops file by. As one Confederate color bearer 
delivered up the tattered flag of his regiment, he 
burst into tears, saying, ^'Boys! You have all seen 
this old flag before. I had rather give my own life 
than give up that flag.'' The sentiment touched 
Gen. Chamberlain and he made the remark that 
endeared him to the South and was repeated thous- 
ands of times: ''Brave fellow! Your spirit is that of 
the true soldier in any army on any field. I only 
regret that I have not the authority" to bid you take 
that flag, carry it home, and preserve it as a precious, 
heirloom of a soldier who did his full duty. ' ' 

General Chamberlain came home to Maine after 
the war, one of the most honored and beloved of the 
soldiers of that great struggle. His college made 
him its President. His State made him four times a 
governor. He brought back to Maine his wounds, 
his suffering and his wonderful spirit of devotion 
to humanity. His hair was as white as snow. 
His face was set in lines that indicated the 
stormv back2:round of his life. It was a sue:- 



276 MAINE, MY STATE 

gestive picture to see him about the town of Bruns- 
wick, driving his old war-horse, Charlie, one of 
six horses that he rode in the service, five others 
having been shot under him. Twice his horse saved 
the life of his master. Once a bullet went into the 
horse's neck that otherwise would have struck his 
rider and once the horse galloped from the field with 
his unconscious master upon his back. Charlie died 
in Brunswick and was buried near Gen. Chamber- 
lain's summer home by the sea. 

It has been said that the greatest soldiers are 
often the tenderest and most considerate of men. 
This has been true in many cases but not always. 
It was true in the case of Gen. Chamberlain. He 
had difficulty in saying ''no" to any person seeking 
his favor. He saw the high and noble heroism of 
his foes, even though he felt the injustice of their 
cause. He was a firm and lasting friend of General 
Lee of the Southern Armies. 

He was once cruising among the Casco Bay 
Islands, wheii his yacht was visited by a party of 
picnickers. Gen. Chamberlain joined them on the 
shore around their camp-fire and here he told stories 
of the war. It was in the era when ill-feeling yet 
ran high between North and South and another 
member of the party followed Gen. Chamberlain 
by severe arraignment of the South. 

In the party was a young lady from Virginia 
whose feelings were deeply hurt by the tirade. One 
person alone noticed; this was Gen. Chamberlain. 
AVith his customary kindness and thoughtfulness, he 
began telling stories of the bravery and generosity 
of his foe and so won back the smiles to the young 



THE HEKO OF LITTLE ROUND TOP 



277 



girPs face and left lier full of admiration for the 
generous and gallant general of the North. 

These qualities of human sympathy made him a 
magnetic orator and a wonderful writer. His ora- 
tion on Maine, delivered by him at the Centennial 
Exposition in Philadelphia in 1876, stands out as the 
finest historical address ever delivered on any sub- 
ject connected with Maine and with perhaps no equal 
among the addresses of similar scope, in the history 




Home of General Chamberlain in Brunswick. 



of our country. Pie wrote the most beautiful Eng- 
lish and he spoke it as well. He was author of many 
books especially connected with historical matters 
touching his native State and the Civil War. Later 
in life, he recounted in a series of magazine articles, 
subsequently put into a book, all of his war-time 
memories, and they are as interesting and as freshly 
vigorous and picturesque as though written by a 



27B Maine, my state 

young man, instead of by a man long past the 
allotted term of life. 

Thousands of boys loved and admired Gen. 
Chamberlain. He met them all over the world in his 
travels, boys whom he had helped through college. 
A friend of Gen. Chayiberlain was once standing 
in front of the Parthenon, the ruin of the renowned 
Greek temple at Athens, when the photographer, an 
Armenian, hearing the word "Bowdoin College" 
asked for Gen. Chamberlain. ''I adore Gen. Cham- 
berlain," said he. *'I was a persecuted Armenian. 
He loaned me the money to give me my education." 
This young man was a photographer of renown and 
a photograph of the statue of Hermes, Avliich he sent 
to Gen. Chamberlain, hung in the Brunswick home of 
the General up to the time of his death. 

The death of Gen. Chamberlain occurred at 
Brunswick in 1914, at the age of 86 years. The 
house where he lived and died in Brunswick was the 
]iome of Longfellow, when he lived and taught at 
Bowdoin. Gen. Chamberlain lies buried not far 
from his Brunswick home. Plis funeral was a great 
military and civic honor. He died in tlie love and 
veneration of his country and of his State, having 
proved by his life and his death the virtues as well 
as the victories of a Christian soldier and a true and 
cultured gentleman. 

— Theda Cary Diiujlcy. 




280 MAINE, MY STATE 

THE MAN WITH THE EMPTY SLEEVE 

TWO STRONG, boyish hands whirled the sled 
into position at the top of the big hill. A 
queer old thing, the boys and girls of to-day 
would call that sled, for in the eighteen-forties steel 
shoes for runners were unknown and the hand-work 
was heavy and clumsy. However, those old wooden 
runners were polished to the smoothness of glass, 
and the boy at the top of the hill knew that he could 
shoot down that long slide like an arrow. 

^'Corne, Hannah," he said to a mite of a girl 
whose sparkling black eyes had been watching his 
every movement, ^^ Let's see if we can't beat the 
whole lot." And the strong hands carefully tucked 
up his small neighbor on the front of the old sled. 

Away they went, many eyes watching them, for 
the big hill was dotted with coasters. Hannah 
caught her breath and laughed with delight as the 
singing wind stung her face. Wouldn't it be fun to 
^'beat the whole lot of them!" 

But alas! near the bottom of the hill was a bend 
in the road, and the sled was going so fast that the 
boy lost control of it. Instead of gracefully round- 
ing that curve, the sled shot straight ahead and 
dashed its nose against the stone wall, tumbling both 
of its riders into the deep snow. 

The boy was on his feet in a moment, looking anx- 
iously around for Hannah, but quick as he was, the 
mite of a girl was up first. Her hood had come off 
and every tight, little curl on her head seemed to be 
dancing with merriment. 

**Otis Howard," she teased, **you can't steer a 
hand-sled more 'n the old cat ! ' ' 



THE MAN WITH THE EMPTY SLEEVE 2Bl 

The future general laughed, too, as he twitched 
the old sled back into the road. 

** Anyway, I didn't, did I, Hannah?" he agreed, 
^'not that time. But if you're not afraid to try 
again, I'll show you that I can do it yet." 

And before they went home, he had fairly proved 
that he could steer as well as the best coaster on the 
hill. 

The home of Oliver Otis Howard was on the 
northern slope of the great hill in Leeds, Maine, and 
his small neighbor, Hannah, lived not far away. 
The little girl went home rather sadly, after all 
her fun. 

^ ' Otis is going away to school again, ' ' she told her 
sister, *^and he says he is going to be in college by 
the time he is sixteen, so we sha 'n 't see him very 
often after this. There isn't half so much pleasant- 
ness going on when Otis is away. ' ' 

It was as Hannah had feared. For some years 
the neighbors saw little of the studious boy who was 
working hard for an education. They merely heard 
that he was getting along well at the Wayne and 
Hallowell schools and at Yarmouth Academy where 
he finished fitting for college. After he entered 
Bowdoin, however, an agreeable surprise came to 
his old neighbors in Leeds. Hannah heard the news 
first and told her sister about it, as they scrubbed and 
sanded the snow-white kitchen floor of their home. 

^^Otis Howard is coming to teach our school," 
she said, ''and I'm so glad I'm not too big to go! 
Only think, Roxana, what a long time since we've 
seen him — Oh, look, who's that coming up the 
road?" 



282 MAINE, MY STATE 

It was a young man nicely dressed in a black 
coat and a pair of light trousers. To the eyes of the 
two girls he looked a fine figure indeed. 

"Now, there's pa shoveling away in the barn- 
yard," complained Hannah, "and we look like two 
frights ourselves, sister. Never mind, perhaps that 
dandified fellow will go right by and not notice." 

But the dandified fellow had no idea of going by. 
He came swinging along the road and, as he caught 
sight of the man with the shovel, he waved his hat, 
then took a flying leap over the fence into the barn- 
yard. 

"How are you. Uncle Morgan!" he exclaimed 
joyfully, wringing the hand that had just dropped 
the muddy shovel. These old neighbors were almost 
the same as ' ' own folks ' ' to each other up here in the 
farming country. 

"It's Otis!" cried Hannah, forgetting all about 
her soiled dress and wet apron as she flew to the 
barnyard fence. 

The future general taught the school successfully 
and Hannah, grown taller but not so very tall yet, 
was one of his pupils. After that he went back to 
college and in due time was graduated and went to 
West Point, where later he became a teacher of math- 
ematics. Then suddenly the country was swept by 
the great Civil War and Oliver Otis Howard was 
among the first to offer his services to the nation. 

Before long the neighbors in the quiet, old town 
of Leeds began to hear of the boy who had gone from 
the farmhouse over the hill. He had been placed in 
command of a regiment of vohmteers, the Third 
Maine. 



'THE MAN WITH THE EMPTY SLEEVE 283 

"Otis Howard is a Colonel," said Hamiali. "I 
never can learn to call Mm that!" Bnt it was not 
long before she had to learn to say ''General" in- 
stead of ' ' Colonel, ' ' for the young officer was rapidly 
promoted. 

The news of battle after battle came to the neigh- 
bors in the home town and tlie}^ learned to look for 
the name of General Howard among those officers 
who were in the thick of the fight. It was said of 
him in later years that he had been in more engage- 
ments than any other man in the army. After the 
battle of Fair Oaks, the news came that ' ' Otis ' ' was 
wounded. Hannah's eyes grew dim over the story 
of her old playmate's part in the battle, and yet she 
was proud of it, too. 

General How^ard had been wounded while leading 
his men into action. We may read about it in his 
own words in the autobiography he wrote years 
after. ' ' To encourage my men, ' ' he w^rote, ' ' I placed 
myself, mounted, in front of the Sixty-Fourth New 
York. I ordered 'Forward' and then 'March.' T 
could hear the echo of these words and, as I started, 
the Sixty-Fourth followed me with a glad shout up 
the slope and through the woods." 

History tells how the battle of Fair Oaks was 
won. After it was over. General Howard, his right 
arm shot away, came to join his family at Auburn 
and to stay with them while he recovered from liis 
wound. His stay was short, however, and most of 
the time was silent in working hard to raise more 
troops from all over Maine to help carr}^ on the war. 
He was soon back at the front, and the general with 
the empty sleeve was put in command of a brigade 
and later of a whole division. 




General 0. 0, Howard 



THE MAN WITH THE EMPTY SLEEVE 285 

In the dark days of 1863 after the bitter defeat of 
Chancellor sville, the people of the North began to 
lose heart. Then came the news that a terrible 
battle was being fonglit at Gettysburg. This battle, 
often called the greatest of the war, began July 1, 
1863. On the morning of the third day, neither side 
had yet gained a victory. 

General Howard's batteries were on the slope of 
Cemetery Hill in the center of the Union line. To 
take this hill would give the enemy certain victory, 
therefore Lee determined to throw all his troops 
against it in one great mass. A Confederate line 
nearly three miles long came silently out of the 
woods, their bright flags shimmering in the sun. 
They meant to break straight through that quiet, 
waiting line, at the center of which The Man with the 
Empty Sleeve stood in front of his batteries. He 
had watched them come nearer and nearer up the 
slope. Suddenly he gave a quick, sharp command 
and the thunder of his giant guns answered him. 
From Little Round Top, too, the cannon boomed. 
The shots tore great gaps in the Confederate lines, 
but the ranks closed up and swept on. The battle 
became a hand-to-hand struggle as the enemy tried 
to plant their flag on the wall and the LTnion men 
barred the way. Overhead the shells screeched; 
men and horses went down by hundreds. 

The Man with the Empty Sleeve had stood firm 
against that terrible rush at the center. The Con- 
federate lines were crumpled up and pushed back. 
At evening the Union men came pouring across the 
field in front of Little Round Top and the great 
battle was over. 



286 MAINE, MY STATE 

Looking at the bloody ground heaped with the 
dead of two brave armies, General Howard said 
those words which he afterwards set down in his life- 
story for all the world to read. "These dreadful 
sights," he wrote, '^show plainly that war must be 
avoided except as the last appeal for existence, or 
i'or the rights which are more valuable than life 
itself." 

Tlie war ended at last, and many years had 
passed, when one day a little, black-eyed woman sat 
alone in a railway train. She had heard some one 
outside say that General Howard was traveling 
somewhere in this section of the State, with a party 
of notable men. She had not seen him since she was 
a girl, but the mention of his name had set her think- 
ing of him. How proud the old neighbors had been 
when they heard of his promotion for gallantry at 
Bull Run, at the very beginning of the war! How 
they had thrilled over the story of his bravery at 
Gettysburg! When he was in command of the right 
wing of Sherman's Army on the famous March to 
the Sea, how they had waited for some word and 
how glad they had been when news of victory came! 

''And ever since the war, too, we've kept on 
hearing about him," thought the little woman. 
"We've heard a lot about the good he did when he 
worked on the Freedmen's Bureau, and all about 
liow he founded Howard University down there in 
Washington. I guess he hadn't forgotten how hard 
he had to work for his own education." 

Then she looked thoughtfully out of the car win- 
dow and after a moment she began to laugh. 

"I wonder," she said to herself, "if he ever 



THE MAN WITH THE EMPTY SLEEVE 287 

thinks of the time when we slid dow^n hill and ran 
into the stone wall. ' ' 

A firm tread sonnded in the aisle behind her. A 
man was coming throngh from the rear car, followed 
by other men who seemed to be traveling in a party. 
The leader had an empty sleeve pinned to his 
shoulder, and as he passed the little woman's seat, 
she looked np and spoke to him. 

^' Hello, Otis,'' she said, jnst as she nsed to say it 
when he came to the kitchen door of the farmhouse 
to ask her to go sliding. 

The general stopped and looked at her. Her hat 
w^as off and he knew those tight curls that clustered 
all over her head, though they were silvery gray 
now. 

^^ Hannah Brewster!" he shouted, much to the 
amusement of the party behind him. Then he 
dropped into the seat beside her and let them go on 
without him, while he asked her eager questions 
about all the old neighbors and talked over all the 
old times, even to that winter day when they took 
the long slide and dashed against the stone wall. 

^'You told me I couldn't steer a hand-sled any 
more than an old cat," the general reminded his 
friend. 

^ ^ Well, you 've steered a good many things bigger 
than a hand-sled since then, Otis," she answered 
him. 

And surely we must agree that Hannah was right 
when we read in history the whole story of the Man 
with the Empty Sleeve who began life in the plain 
little farmhouse on the north slope of the great 
Maine hill. 

— Mabel S. Merrill. 



288 MAINE, MY STATE 

WHEN HANNIBAL HAMLIN GOT THE 
^'JONAH" 

THE FOLLOWING story is a chapter from the 
happy lives of six boys and girls on a Maine 
farm, in the early sixties. 

When President Lincoln sent out the call for 
troops at the opening of the Civil War, five stalwart 
sons of a country "Squire" entered the army of the 
Union. 

Of the five, not one survived that awful conflict. 
So it happened that their children, war waifs and 
orphaned, came back in 1865-6 to live at their grand- 
father's old farm on Lake Pennesseewassee in 
Oxford County. 

They came from four different states in the Union 
and two of the children had never even seen their 
cousins. At the age of 65, the grandfather set him- 
self to till the farm on a larger scale and to renew his 
lumbering operations. Grandmother, too, was con- 
strained to increase her flock of geese and other poul- 
try and to begin anew the labor of spinning and 
weaving. The boys assisted ' ^ the Squire, ' ' as their 
grandfather was called, in the farm work, while the 
three girls were "Gram's" little helpers. 

The six cousins, Theodora, Ellen and "Little 
Wealthy, ' ' Addison, Halstead and ' ^ Edmund 's boy ' ' 
— were a merry group and had many an adventure. 
The story of those happy years is told in several 
charming books written by Maine's famous author, 
Dr. C. A. Stephens of Norway, known to all readers 
of the Youth 's Companion. 

How these young folks entertained a Vice-Presi- 
dent of the United States, is told in this story. 



WHEN HANNIBAL HAMLIN GOT THE ^' JONAH " 289 

Part I. Fried Pies 

One forenoon when our grandparents were away 
for the day, we coaxed Theodora and Ellen to fry a 
batch of three dozen pies, and two ^^ Jonahs;'' and 
the girls, with some misgivings as to what Gram 
wonld say to them for making such inroads on * * pie 
timber,'' set abont it by ten o'clock. 

They filled half a dozen with mince-meat, half a 
dozen with stewed gooseberry, and then half a dozen 
each, with crab-apple jelly, plnm, peach and black- 
berry. They wonld not let ns see Avhat they filled 
the ''Jonahs" with, but we knew it was a fearful 
load. Generally it was with something shockingly 
sour, or bitter. The ''Jonahs" looked precisely like 
the others and were mixed with the others on the 
platter which was passed at table, for each one to 
take his or her choice. And the rule was that who- 
ever got the ' ' Jonah pie ' ' must either eat it, or crawl 
under the table for a foot-stool for the others dur- 
ing the rest of the meal! 

What they actually put in the two "Jonahs," 
this time, was wheat bran mixed with cayenne pep- 
jjer — an awful dose. It is needless to say that the 
girls usually kept an eye on the Jonah pie or placed 
some slight private mark on it, so as not to get it 
themselves. 

When we were alone and had something particu- 
larly good on the table, Addison and Theodora had a 
habit of making up rhymes about it, before passing 
it around, and sometimes the rest of us attempted 
to join in the recreation, generally with indifferent 
success. Kate Edwards had come in that day, and 
being invited to remain to our feast of fried pies, 



290 MAINE, MY STATE 

was contributing her wit to tlie rhyming contest, 
when, chancing to glance out the window, Ellen 
espied a gray horse and buggy with the top turned 
back, standing in the yard, and in the buggy a large, 
elderly, dark-complexioned man, a stranger to all 
of us, who sat regarding the premises with a smile 
of shrewd and pleasant contemplation. 

^ ^ Now who in the world can that be ! " exclaimed 
Ellen in low tones. '^I do believe he has overheard 
some of those awful verses you have been mak- 
ing up. ' ' 

^'But someone must go to the door,'' Theodora 
whispered. '^Addison, you go out and see what he 
has come for." 

^'He doesn't look just like a minister," said 
Halstead. 

^^Nor just like a doctor," Kate whispered. ^*But 
he is somebody of consequence, I know, he looks so 
sort of dignified and experienced." 

^'And what a good, old, broad, distinguished 
face," said Ellen. 

Thus their sharp young eyes took an inventory 
of our caller, who, I may as well say here, was Hanni- 
bal Hamlin, at that time but recently Vice-Presi- 
dent of the United States and one of the most famous 
anti-slavery leaders of the Republican party before 
the Civil War. 

The old Hamlin homestead, where Hannibal 
Hamlin passed his boyhood, was at Paris Hill, 
Maine, eight or ten miles to the eastward of the Old 
Squire's farm; he and the Old Squire had been 
young men together, and at one time quite close 
friends and classmates at Hebron Academy. 



WHEN HANNIBAL HAMLIN GOT THE '' JONAH " 291 

111 strict point of fact, Mr. Hamlin's term of 
office as Vice-President with Abraham Lincoln had 
expired; and at this time he had not entered on his 
long tennre of the Senatorship from Maine. Mean- 
time he was Collector of Cnstoms for the Port of 
Boston, bnt a few days previously he had resigned 
this office. 

In the interim he was making a brief visit to the 
scenes of his boyhood home, and had taken a fancy 
to drive over to call on the Old Squire. But we of 
the j^ounger and lately-arriving generation, did not 
even know ''Uncle Hannibal" by sight and had not 
tlie slightest idea who he was. Addison went out, 
however, and asked if he should take his horse. 

''Why, Joseph S still lives here, does he 

not?" queried Mr. Hamlin, regarding Addison's 
youthful countenance inquiringly. 

"Yes, sir," replied Addison, "I am his grand- 
son." 

"Ah, I thought you were rather young for one of 
his sons," Mr. Hamlin remarked. "I heard, too, 
that lie had lost all his sons in the War." 

"Yes, sir," Addison replied soberly. 

Mr. Hamlin regarded him thoughtfully for a 
moment. "I used to know jour grandfather," he 
said. "Is he at home?" 

Addison explained the absence of Gramp and 
Gram. ' ' I am very sorry they are away, ' ' he added. 

"I am sorry, too," said Mr. Hamlin, "I wanted 
to see them and say a few w^ords to them." He 
IfCgan to turn his horse as if to drive away, but Theo 
dora, who was always exceedingly hospitable, had 
gone out and now addressed our caller with greater 
cordialitv. 



292 MAINE, MY STATE 



i< 



Will you not come in, sir?" she exclaimed. 
^^Grandfather will be very sorr^M Do please stop a 
little while and let the boys feed your horse." 

Mr. Hamlin regarded her with a paternal smile. 
^'I will get out and walk around a bit, to rest my 
legs," he replied. 

Once he was out of the buggy, Addison and I took 
his horse to the stable; and Theodora, having first 
shown him the garden and the long row of bee hives, 
led the way to the cool sitting-room, and domesti- 
cated him in an easy chair. We heard her relating 
recent events of our family history to him, and an- 
swering his questions. 

Part II. The Jonahs 

Meantime the fried pies were waiting and getting 
cold. Addison and I had returned from the stable 
and were beginning to feel a little impatient, when 
the sitting-room door opened, and we heard "Doad" 
saying, ''We haven't much for luncheon today, but 
fried pies, but we shall all be glad to have you sit 
down with us." 

"What an awful fib!" whispered Ellen behind 
her hand to Kate; and, truth to say, his coming had 
rather upset our anticipated pleasure ; but Mr. Ham- 
lin had taken a great fancy to Theodora and was 
accepting her invitation, with vast good-nature. 

What a great, dark man he looked, as he followed 
Theodora out to the table. 

' ' These are my cousins that I have told you of, ' ' 
she was saying, and then mentioned all our names 
to him and afterwards Kate's, although Mr. Hamlin 
had not seen fit to tell us his own; we supposed that 
lie was merely some pleasant old acquaintance of 
Gramp's early years. 



WHEN HANNIBAL HAMLIN GOT THE JONAH " 293 

He was seated in Gramp's place at table and, 
after a brief finny in the kitchen, the big platterful 
of fried pies w^s bronght in. What Ellen and Theo- 
dora had done was, carefully to pick out the two 
'* Jonahs "and lay them aside. 

^'And are these the 'fried piesT " he asked with 
the broadest of smiles. "They resemble huge 
doughnuts. But I now remember that my mother 
used to fry something like this when I was a boy at 
home, over at Paris Hill; and my recollection is that 
they were very good." 

''Yes, the most of them are very good," said 
Addison, by way of making conversation, "unless 
you happen to get the 'Jonah.' " 

"And what's the 'Jonah!' " asked our visitor. 

Amidst much laughter, this was explained to 
him — also the penalty. Mr. Hamlin burst forth in a 
great shout of laughter, which led us to surmise that 
he enjoyed fuii. 

"But we have taken the 'Jonahs' out of these," 
Theodora made haste to reassure him. 

"What for?" he exclaimed. 

"Why — why — because we have company," stam- 
mered Doad, much confused. 

"And spoil the sport f" cried our visitor. 
"Young lady, I want those 'Jonahs' put back." 

"Oh, but they are awful 'Jonahs!' " pleaded 
Theodora. 

"I want those 'Jonahs' put back," insisted Mr. 
Hamlin. "I shall have to decline to lunch here, 
unless the 'Jonahs' are in their proper places. Fetch 
in the 'Jonahs.' " 

Very shame-faced, Ellen brought them in. 




Hannibal Hamlin Praised the Fried Pies. 
[From "When Life was Young." by C. A. Stephens.] 



WHEN HANNIBAL HAMLiN GOT THE JONAH " 295 

^'No hokus-pokus now," cried our visitor, and 
nothing would answer, but that we should all turn 
our backs and shut our eyes, while Kate put them 
among" the others in the platter. 

It was then passed and all chose one. ^^Each 
take a good, deep mouthful," cried Mr. Hamlin, 
entering mirthfully into the spirit of the game. 
' ^ All together — now ! ' ' 

We all bit, eight bites at once; as it chanced no 
one got a ''Jonah," and the eight fried pies rapidly 
disappeared. 

"But these are good!" cried our visitor. "Mine 
was gooseberry." Then, turning to Theodora, 
"How many times can a fellow try for a 'Jonah' 
here?" 

"Eive times!" replied Doad, laughing and not a 
little pleased w^ith the praise. 

The platter was passed again, and again no one 
got bran and cayenne. 

But at the third passing, I saw Kate start visibly 
when our visitor chose his pie. ' ' All ready. Bite ! ' ' 
he cried; and we bit! but at the first taste he stopped 
short, rolled his eyes around and shook his head with 
his capacious mouth full. 

"Oh, but you need not eat it, sir!" cried Theo- 
dora, rushing around to him. 

But without a word our bulky visitor had sunk 
slowly out of his chair and, pushing it back, disap- 
peared under the long table. 

For a moment we all sat, scandalized, then 
shouted in spite of ourselves. In the midst of our 
confused hilarity, the table began to oscillate ; it rose 
slowly several inches, then moved off, rattling, 
toward the sitting-room door! Our jolly visitor had 



296 MAINE, MY STATE 

it on his back and was crawling ponderously but 
carefully away with it on his hands and knees; — 
and the rest of us were getting ourselves and our 
chairs out of the way! In fact, the remainder of 
that luncheon was a perfect gale of laughter. The 
table walked clean around the room and came very 
carefully back to its original position. 

After the hilarity had subsided, the girls served 
some very nice, large, sweet blackberries, which our 
visitor appeared to relish greatly. He told us of 
his boyhood at Paris Hill; of his fishing for trout in 
the brooks thereabouts, of the time he broke his arm 
and of the doctor who set it so unskilfully that it had 
to be broken again and re-set; of the beautiful tour- 
maline crystals which he and his brother found at 
Mt. Mica; and of his school-days at Hebron Acad- 
emy; and all with such feeling and such a relish, that 
for an hour we were rapt listeners. 

When at length he declared that he positively 
must be going on his way, we begged him to remain 
over night, and brought out his horse with great 
reluctance. 

Before getting into the buggy, he took us each by 
the hand and saluted the girls, particularly '^Doad,'' 
in a truly paternal manner. 

**IVe had a good time!'^ said he. *'I am glad 
to see you all here at this old farm in my dear native 
State; but (and we saw the moisture start in his 
great black eyes) it touches my heart more than I 
can tell you, to know of the sad reason for your com- 
ing here. You have my heartiest sympathy. 

^ ^ Tell your grandparents that I should have been 
XQYj glad to see them," he added, as he got in the 
buggy and took the reins from Addison. 



WHEN HANNIBAL HAMLIN GOT THE '' JONAH " 297 

*^But, sir," said Theodora, earnestly, for we were 
all crowding up to the buggy, ^ ^ grandfather will ask 
who it was that called. ' ^ 

^'Oh, well, you can describe me to him!" cried 
Mr. Hamlin, laughing (for he knew how cut up we 
should feel if he told us who he really was). "And 
if he cannot make me out, you may tell him that it 
was an old fellow he once knew, named Hamlin. 
Good-by." And he drove away. The name signi- 
fied little to us at the time. 

"Well, whoever he is, he's an old brick!" said 
Halse, as the gray horse and buggy passed between 
the high gate-posts, at the foot of the lane. 

"I think he is just splendid!" exclaimed Kate, 
enthusiastically. 

"And he has such a great, kind heart!" said 
Theodora. 

When Gramp and Gram came home, we were not 
slow in telling them that a most remarkable elderly 
man, named Hamlin, had called to see them, and 
stopped to lunch with us. 

"Hamlin, Hamlin," repeated the Old Squire, 
absently. "What sort of looking man?" 

Theodora and Ellen described him, with much 
zest. 

"Why, Joseph, it must have been Hannibal!" 
cried Gram. 

"So it was!" exclaimed Gramp. "Too bad we 
were not at home!" 

"What! Not the Hannibal Hamlin that was 
Vice-President of the United States!" Addison 
almost shouted. 

And about that time, it would have required 
nothing much heavier than a turkey's feather to 



298 MAINE, MY STATE 

PI 

bowl us all over. Addison looked at ^^Doad" and 
she looked at Ellen and me. Halse whistled. 

"Why, what did you say, or do, that makes you 
look so queer!" cried Gram, with uneasiness. ''I 
hope you behaved well to him. Did anything 
happen ? " 

''Oh, no, nothing much," said Ellen, laughing 
nervously. ''Only he got the 'Jonah' pie and — and 
— we 've had the Vice-President of the United States 
under the table to put our feet on!" 

Gram turned very red and was much disturbed. 
She wanted to have a letter written that night, and 
try to apologize for us. But the Old Squire only 
laughed. "I have known Mr. Hamlin ever since he 
was a boy," said he. "He enjoyed that pie as well 
as any of them; no apology is needed." 

— C. A. Stephens. 

A FAMOUS MAINE CRADLE 

YOU OFTEN hear a locality spoken of as the 
cradle of a race or family. The word cradle, 
except in this sense, bids fair to become obso- 
lete. If you look in your dictionary you will see 
that the cradle means a rocking or swinging bed for 
an infant. It is no longer the fashion to rock babies 
in cradles. In fact it is considered unhygienic to 
rock them at all. We seldom see cradles, except, 
perhaps, as exhibits in a collection of antiques, or it 
may be, far back in the country, some cradle has 
been brought down from the dust and obscurity of 
the attic and restored to its original use. 

I want to tell you about a certain cradle. In 
appearance it is a very ordinary, wooden cradle, but 



A FAMOUS .MAINE CRADLE 



299 



it has rocked many distinguished men, and it was the 
same mother who rocked them alL Of this mother 
Hannibal Hamlin, himself a f anions Maine man, said : 
Rome in all her glory never produced snch a mother 
as the mother of the Washburns/ ' In this cradle 



i i 




e^v2U.Sii>t<^ .-? 



The Cradle of the Washburn s 



were rocked fonr members of Congress from fonr 
different states, two foreign ministers, two gov- 
ernors of tw^o different states, one major-general in 
the United States Army during the Civil War and 
one captain in the navy. 

Did you ever hear of the War Governor of 
Maine! Not the governor who was in office when 



300 MAINE, MY STATE 

the "World War broke out, but the governor who 
held that position when the Civil War was declared. 
His name was Israel Washburn. He was one of the 
babies who was rocked in this cradle. His father's 
name, too, was Israel Washburn, and his grandfather 
was a Revolutionary soldier, a member of the con- 
vention that adopted the first constitution of Massa- 
chusetts. At that time, as you know, Maine and 
Massachusetts were one state. 

Israel Washburn, as well as his distinguished 
brothers, was born in the town of Livermore in 
Oxford County, now Androscoggin. The district 
school that young Israel attended was an old-fash- 
ioned, unpainted, wooden building. It contained 
two enormous tire-places in which great fires were 
kept burning in the winter. Wood, in those times, 
cost nothing but for the hauling, and the boys took 
turns in building the fires. It was in 1820, or there- 
abouts, that a hurricane swept the roof off the 
schoolhouse and landed it in a field near by. So 
great had been the down-pour of rain that the boys 
waded in the puddles up to their knees on the way 
home. 

Israel did not have the privilege of going to col- 
lege, but he was a diligent student and fine classical 
scholar. He afterward became a lawyer and a 
strong opponent of slavery. He began his law prac 
tice in the town of Orono, where the University of 
Maine now is, and married a daughter of a promi- 
nent family in that town. In 1842 he was elected to 
the State Legislature. 

It w^as no wonder that the people of Maine chose 
such a brilliant young man to represent them in Con- 
gress, and so he was sent to Washington in 1850^ 



A FAMOUS MAINE CRADLE 



301 



where lie served five years. So well pleased were 
Maine people with his record in Congress, where he 
stood always on the side of right and justice, that 
they decided they wanted him for governor of 
the State, and he was elected to that office in 1860, 
just as the country was about to enter upon that ter- 
rible conflict, the Civil War. The first gun was fired 
at Fort Sumter, April 12, 1861, and in two days' time 
Governor Washburn issued a proclamation calling 




The Norlands. 

Home of the Famous Washburn Family at Livermore. 



the Legislature together so that active measures 
might be taken to crush the rebellion. 

Governor Washburn served two terms, but 
refused to serve a third. He was successful in 
guiding the affairs of the State through one of its 
most critical periods. At the close of his adminis- 
tration. President Lincoln, in appreciation of his fine 
services, offered him the position of Collector of the 



302 MAINE, MY STATE 

Port of Portland. He filled this office honorably 
and with ability nntil he resigned in 1877. He spent 
the remainder of his life in literary pursuits. For 
many years he lived on the beautiful estate of the 
Washburns, called ''The Norlands" in Livermore. 
The house was burned down twice, but was rebuilt 
and is now a fine mansion. 

We have more interest in Israel Washburn, per- 
haps, than in his brothers, because he was one of the 
governors of Maine, but several of his brothers were 
as distinguished as himself. Cadwallader, who was 
a major-general in the Civil War and who had 
removed to Wisconsin in 1841, became governor of 
that state in 1871. Elihu, another brother, settled 
in Illinois. He was Secretary of State during Gen- 
eral Grant's administration, and afterwards resigned 
that position to become United States minister to 
France. Here he had a wonderful experience, as he 
was in Paris during that terrible period, the reign of 
the Commune, and the siege by the Prussians. 

Charles A., after graduating from Bowdoin Col- 
lege, went to California, where he published and 
edited a newspaper. In 1861, he was appointed Min- 
ister to Paragua}^, where he lived for eight years. 
He wrote a history of Paraguay in two volumes, and 
other books. 

Samuel B. Washburn was a ship-master in the 
merchant marine and a captain in the navy during 
the Civil War. William David was also a Bowdoin 
graduate. He settled in Minnesota and at one time 
was president of the Minneapolis and St. Louis rail- 
road and later a member of Congress. The remain- 
ing brother, Algernon, was a merchant and banker- 
of note. 



A FAMOUS MAINE CRADLE . 303 

Sucli is the story of the seven Washburn brothers. 
Of the sisters of this remarkable galaxy we know 
little, but we may be sure that they were women of 
character and ability. 

The descendants of the Washburns still live at 
''The Norlands." Here is a beautiful little memo- 
rial library containing many mementoes of the 
Washburn family, and here is still to be seen the 
famous wooden cradle. 

— Rose D. Nc alley. 



MODERN AND GENERAL 



THE STORY OF NEW SWEDEN 
Part I 

JF YOU would know the story of New Sweden 
from the beginning we must go back to the time 

of onr great Civil War. 

Early in that fateful struggle our grand Presi- 
dent, Abraham Lincoln, appointed me, then but 
twenty-three years old, one of the thirty ^ ' War Con- 
suls '' of America, and sent me to represent our 
country at the port of Gothenburg on the west coast 
of Sweden. During a three years ' residence there, I 
acquired the Swedish language, became familiar 
with the history, manners and customs of the people, 
and learned to know, respect and admire the manner 
of men and women they were. I had beheld also the 
thousands of sturdy Swedish farmers and workmen 
who every year came down from the interior to 
Gothenburg with their fair-haired wives and 
children and their ponderous chests of baggage, went 
on board the steamships in the harbor, and sailed 
away for America. 

As a patriotic American I was proud of this emi- 
gration, but regretted that none of all these emi- 
grants settled in Maine. All passed by our State 
and went to build up the states of the West and 
Northwest. Yet no state or territory in the Union 
is better adapted by nature to become the home of 
Swedes than the northern, wooded State of Maine. 

304 




Hon. W. W. Thomas 



306 MAINE, MY STATE 

No better emigrants than the Swedes ever landed 
on American soiL Honest and industrious, law- 
abiding and God-fearing, polite and brave, hospita- 
ble and generous, of the same old northern stock as 
ourselves, no foreign-speaking immigrants learn our 
language more quickly, and none become more 
speedily Americanized or make better citizens. 

Maine is a state of great, but largely undeveloped 
resources. In the northwestern portion there was 
and still is, a wilderness domain, whereon is scarce 
a settler, larger in area than the state of Massachu- 
setts, covered with a stately forest, possessing a soil 
of unusual depth and fertility, and watered by plen- 
tiful streams. 

I resigned my consulship and returned to my 
native State at the close. of 1865. I had become con- 
vinced that immigration of some sort was a neces- 
sity and that Swedish immigration would be the 
best. But how could Swedish emigrants be procured 
and how could they be retained within the limits of 
our State after they arrived here ? I finally worked 
out a plan to found a Swedish Colony in Maine, and 
for three years after my return I preached in Maine 
the faith that was in me. 

I presented a bill to carry out my plan to the Leg- 
islature of 1869. When the bill came before the 
House, a member arose and said: '^Mr. Speaker, we 
have paupers enough in Maine already, and now 
comes Thomas and proposes to bring over a whole 
shipload more of them." Need I add that my bill 
was unanimously voted down ! 

I did not lose courage, however. I appeared 
again before the Legislature of 1870 with my bill, 
and, on March 23d, the bill was passed and became 



THE STORY OF NEW SWEDEN 307 

law. Two days after, I was appointed Commis- 
sioner of Immigration and the fate of my plan was 
placed in my own hands. 

Having snccessfnlly arranged all preliminaries 
in Maine, I sailed for Sweden, arriving on the 16th 
of Alay at my old post, Gothenburg. I at once 
traveled among the people and everywhere preached 
a crusade to Maine. But the crusade was a peace- 
ful one, its weapons were those of husbandry and its 
object to recover the fertile lands of our State from 
the dominion of the forest. 

To secure the right class of people seemed the 
most difficult part of the whole enterprise. I there- 
fore dwelt on the fact that, as only a limited number 
of families could be taken, none would be accepted 
unless they brought with them the highest testimo- 
jiials as to character and proficiency in their 
callings. 

The problem soon began to solve itself. Recruits 
for Maine began to appear. All bore certificates of 
character under the hand and seal of the pastor of 
their district, and all who had worked for others 
brought recommendations from their employ- 
ers. No one was accepted unless it appeared clear 
that he would make a thrifty citizen of our good 
State of Maine. In this way a little colony of picked 
men with their wives and children was quickly gath- 
ered. The details of the movement, the arguments 
used, the objections made, the multitude of questions 
about our State asked and answered would fill a vol- 
ume. I was repeatedly asked if Maine was one of 
the United States. One enquirer wished to know if 
Maine lay alongside Texas, and another wrote ask- 



308 MAINE, MY STATE 

iiig if there were to be found in Maine any wild 
horses or crocodiles. 

On June 23d, the colonists, who had been re- 
cruited from nearly every province of Sweden, were 
assembled at Gothenburg, and on the evening of that 
day — midsummer's eve, a Swedish festival — I 
invited them and their friends to a collation at the 
Baptist Hall in that city. 

Two days afterwards I sailed away from Sweden 
with the first Swedish colony of Maine. 

The colony was composed of twenty-two men, 
eleven women, and eighteen children, fifty-one souls 
in all. All the men were farmers; in addition some 
were skilled in trades and professions, there being 
among them a lay pastor, a civil engineer, a black- 
smith, two carpenters, a basket-maker, a wheel- 
wright, a baker, a tailor and a wooden-shoe maker. 
The women were tidy housewives and diligent 
workers at the spinning-wheel and loom. All were 
tall and stalwart, with blue eyes, blonde hair and 
cheerful, honest faces. With strong feelings of pride, 
I looked upon them as they were mustered on the 
deck of the steamship Orlando. 

Part II 

On July 13th we landed at Halifax. The next 
day we continued our journey across the peninsula 
of N ova Scotia and over the Bay of Fundy to the 
city of St. John. July 15tli we ascended the St. 
John River by steamer to Fredericton. Here steam 
navigation ceased on account of low water, but two 
river flat-boats drawn by horses, were chartered. 
The colonists and their baggage were placed on 
board and at five o'clock the next morning our col- 
ony was on its way again up river. 



THE STORY OF NEW SWEDEN 300 

Near Florenceville the first misfortune befell ns. 
Here, on Jnly 19th, died Hilma C. Clase, the little 
daughter of Capt. Nicholas P. Clase. Her body was 
properly embalmed, placed in a qnickly constructed 
coffin and bronght on with the Colony. '^We cannot 
leave our little one by the way," said the sorrow- 
stricken parents, ''we will carry her through to our 
new home.'' 

On the afternoon of Thursday, July 21st, the flat- 
boats reached Tobique landing. Six days had been 
spent in towing up from Fredericton; the journey is 
now accomplished by railroad in as many hours. 

Friday morning, July 22d, I procured teams for 
the colonists and their baggage, and the Swedish 
immigrant train started for Maine. At the border, 
we were welcomed by the citizens of Fort Fairfield 
with a salute of cannon, with fla^s and floAvers and 
with a sumptuous banquet in the Town Hall. Re- 
freshed, we continued our way up the broad valley 
of the Aroostook, and were most hospitably 
received and provided with entertainment and lodg- 
ing for the night by the people of Caribou. 

Next morning the Swedish immigrant train was 
early in motion and soon passed the last clearing of 
the American pioneer and penetrated a forest which 
now for the first time was opened for the abode of 
man. 

At twelve o'clock noon, Saturday, July 23, 1870, 
just four months from the passage of the act author- 
izing this enterprise, the first Swedish colony of our 
State arrived at its new home in the wilds of Maine. 
As the wagon train stopped in the woods, a little 
south of where the Swedish capitol now stands, the 
Swedes instinctively drew together in a little group 



310 MAINE, MY STATE 

around me, and here, in the shadow of the forest 
primeval we devoutly thanked God, who had led us 
safely on our long journey, and fervently prayed for 
His blessing and guidance in the great work that lay 
before us. Here, too, I baptized the town ^'New 
Sweden, ' ' a name at once commemorative of the past 
and auspicious of the future. Here Swedes and 
Americans broke bread together, and the colonists 
ate their first meal on the township where they were 
to hew out of the forest homes for themselves. 

The next day was the Sabbath. The first relig- 
ious service in the township was a sad one — the 
funeral of Hilma C. Clase, the little Swedish girl 
who had died on the passage up the St. John River, 

Monday the Swedes drew lots for their forest 
farms. Tuesday morning, July 26th, they com- 
menced the great work of converting a forest into a 
home. Through summer and fall the primeval for- 
est rang from morn till eve with the blows of the 
Swedish ax. The prattle of Swedish children and 
the song of Swedish mothers made unwonted music 
in the wilds of Maine. New clearings opened out 
and new log-houses were rolled up on every hand. 
Odd bits of board and the happily twisted branches 
of trees were quickly converted into furniture. 

For myself it was a pleasure to share the toils 
and privations of our new settlers. Every day I was 
among them from dawn till dark. On foot or on 
horseback I visited them all. 

On August 12th, a new immigrant arrived in the 
colony. He was a native American, a good-sized 
boy baby, born to Korno, wife of Nils Persson, the 
first child born in New Sweden. He is alive and 



THE STORY OF^NEW SWEDEN 311 

well today, a man and voter. He rejoices in the 
name of William Widgery Thomas Persson. 

Sunday afternoon, August 21st, occurred the first 
wedding. I then united in marriage Jons Persson 
to Hannah Persdotter. The marriage ceremony was 
conducted in the Swedish language but according to 
American forms. In the evening a wedding dinner 
was enjoyed at the Perssons\ All the spoons were 
of solid silver, heirlooms from Old Sweden. 

Thus within the first month of the colony's exist- 
ence, it experienced the three great events in the life 
of man — birth, marriage, death. 

Many colonists whom I had recruited in Old Swe- 
den could not get ready to sail with me in the 
Orlando. They promised to follow and kept their 
word. All through the fall these new immigrants 
came dropping into our settlement, until in Decem- 
ber New Sweden had 114 Swedish settlers, a number 
larger than the original Plymouth Colony of 101 
souls. Again, although nearly half of our brave 
Pilgrims died the first winter, there was not a death, 
nay, not even one single day's sickness of man, 
woman or child in New Sweden during the first year. 
For four years I remained with ^*my children in the 
woods" and superintended the development of the 
colony. 

In the fall of 1873 the little settlement of Mty 
had increased to 600, and outside of New Sweden as 
many more Swedes were located in our State, drawn 
to us by our Swedish colony. The trees on 2200 
acres had been felled; 1500 of these acres were 
cleared in a thorough and superior manner, of which 
400 were laid down to grass. 



312 MAINE, MY STATE 

I then felt that all the conditions of the plan on 
which this experiment had been made, were fnlfilled. 
The colony had been recruited in Sweden, trans- 
planted to Maine, fast rooted in our soil and made 
self-sustaining. The infant colony was now strong- 
enough to go alone. 

On Sunday forenoon, October 19th, 1873, I met 
the Swedes at the Capitol. Nearly all the settlers, 
men, women and children, were there. I recounted 
the history of the colony since the first adventurous 
little band had met together in Old Sweden, spoke 
such words of friendly counsel as the occasion sug- 
gested and justified, and then took leave. 

In my annual report to the Legislature at the 
close of 1873, I recommended that all special State 
aid to New Sweden should cease. I further took 
pleasure in recommending that the office of com- 
missioner of immigration, which I held, be abolished, 
since the accomplishment of the undertaking ren- 
dered the office no longer necessary; and thus I laid 
down the work which for four years had occupied 
the better portion of my life and endeavor. Though 
my official connection with New Sweden ceased with 
1873, this colony has never ceased to occupy a large 
portion of my heart, my thoughts and my prayers. 

Among the causes that have contributed to the 
success of New Sweden are the industry, the econ- 
omy, the honesty, the temperance and the deep relig- 
ious faith of the colonists themselves. There has 
ncA^er been a rum shop in New Sweden and her 
churches are filled with sincere worshipers every 
Sunday in the year. The Swedish women have ever 
rendered active help to their husbands. The Swed- 
ish wife not only did the housework but helped her 



THE STORY OF NEW SWEDEN 3l3 

Imsbaiid in the clearings amid tlie blackened stumps 
and logs. Many of the Swedes cut their logs into 
lengths for piling with cross-cut saw^s. Whenever 
this was the case, you w^ould see that the Swedish 
wife had hold of one end of the saw. 

Once, riding out of the woods, I met one of our 
Swedish women walking in with a heavy sack on her 
back. As she passed, 1. noticed a commotion inside 
the sack. 

''What have you in there!" said I. 

''Four nice pigs," she replied. 

' ' Where did you get them ! ' ' 

"Down river, two miles beyond Caribou." 

Two miles beyond Caribou was ten miles from 
New Sweden. So this good wife had walked that 
morning twenty miles; ten miles out, and ten miles 
home with four pigs on her back, smiling all the 
way, to think what nice pigs they were. 

Another wife, Mrs. Kjersti Carlson, when her 
husband was ill and her children cried for bread, 
with her own hands felled some cedar trees, sawed 
them up into butts, and rifted out and shaved these 
butts into shingles, one bunch of which she carried 
five miles through the woods on her back, to barter 
at the corner store for medicine and food. B}^ such 
toil was the wilderness settled. 

The Swedish immigrants soon overflowed the 
boundaries of the township of New Sw^eden and set- 
tled in the adjoining American towns of Woodland, 
Caribou and Perham. They also pressed over the 
boundaries to the west and founded the daughter 
colony of Westmanland. To the north our Swedish 
settlers have founded the daughter colonies of Stock- 
holm and Upsala. 




Hi 



THErSTORY OF NEW SWEDEN 315 

New Sweden township today contains, in ronnd 
numbers, 1,000 settlers. In tlie adjoining colonies 
there are at least 1,000 more. In the State at large 
there are more than 3,000 Swedes brought hither by 
the influence of our Swedish colony. The State of 
Maine contains today at least 5,000 Swedish inhab- 
itants. 

Our Swedish settlement today has three saw 
mills, two starch factories, five large stores, two 
blacksmith shops, a creamery, a fine Grange Hall, 
two postoffices with rural delivery, four churches, 
an excellent band of musicians, a central telephone 
exchange with 250 telephones in use, and nine mod- 
ern school-houses, where graded schools are taught 
by well-trained Swedish teachers. 

Some of the pupils come to school five miles 
through the woods, slipping over the snow on 
skis — Swedish snowshoes. 

As to crops raised, I am_ told that in the winter 
of 1913-14 there were exported from the railroad sta- 
tions in New Sweden no less than 158,000 barrels of 
potatoes, 17,000 barrels also were consumed in the 
starch factories, making a total of 175,000 barrels of 
potatoes over and above her own consumption, pro- 
duced by New Sweden in a single year. 

New Sweden is the only successful agricultural 
colony founded in New England with foreigners 
from over the ocean, since the Revolutionary War. 
There is not in the United States a more orderly, 
prosperous, contented and happy agricultural com- 
munity than the New Sweden of Maine. 

— William Widgery Thomas. 

Bethel, January, IQIQ- 



316 MAINE, MY STATE 

LITTLE CHRISTIANA'S JOURNEY THROUGH 
THE MAINE WOODS IN 1813 

LITTLE CHRISTIANA WORMWOOD was 
playing school, teaching the baby Sally to 
say: 

''I live in the town of Alfred, 
County of York, 
District of Maine, 
State of Massachusetts." 
She was interrupted by a stranger, a tall man 
with a pleasant face, who, courteously lifting his 
hat, addressed her mother, ^'Mrs. Wormwood, I 
believe? I am Samuel Cook of Houlton and bring 
you a letter from your husband." 

^ ^ I am so glad to see you, Mr. Cook. It is a long 
time since I heard from my husband." 

^'He is all right. Madam, and doing well at his 
work. While you read your letter I will get 
acquainted with these little folks. I have some just 
their size at home." Then she read: 

Houlton, Maine, July 4, 1813. 
My dear Wife: 

I am taking advantage of Mr. S. Cook's trip 
to Western Maine to send you news of my wel- 
fare. I am doing well here, and think this new 
country is the place for us to settle. If you all 
are well, Mr. Cook will bring you when he 
returns, and I hope to see you before winter. 
Baby Sally must be quite a girl now. Tell 
Christiana Father hopes she grows good as fast 
as she grows tall. Much love to them both. I 
must tell you of my adventures coming from 
Bangor to Houlton last year. I hired an Old 



LITTLE Christiana's journey 317 

Town Indian, who said he knew the road 
throngh the woods, to pilot me. We paddled 
np the Penobscot and Mattawamkeag Rivers. 
The fellow did not know much English, and 
after a while I thought he did not know much 
about the way. At a carrying place there was a 
sort of path which I thought I understood him 
to say led to Houlton, that it was but a day's 
journey awaj and he could direct me so that I 
could find my waj^ alone. So I sent him back 
and went on with food for one day in my saddle- 
bags and my pack of joiners' tools on my back. 
After leaving the stream, there was no path and 
I wandered some days in the woods. Exhausted, 
I left my tools on a ''horseback" between a 
pond and the stream, and struggled on one day 
more, following the stream, climbing over water- 
falls and through tangled swamps. Suddenly 
I came out in the clearing of Dr. Rice in Houl- 
ton, who took care of me. In a few days I was 
completely recovered. Mr. Kendall went back 
six or seven miles with me and got my tools in 
Hodgdon. 

You will have no such experience as Mr. 
Cook is familiar with the trail and will conduct 
you safe over. I built a house for Dr. Rice and 
am building for Mr. Aaron Putnam now. You 
will like the people here very much. 
Good-bye until we meet. 

Your loving husband, 

Samuel Wormwood. 

The children were talking with their new friend. 

''Do bears live where our new home is to be?" 
asked Christiana. 



318 MAINE, MY STATE 

*'Yes, Christiana, but brave girls needn't be 
cifraid of bears. I know a woman who saw a bear 
trying to steal her pig. She canght np a gun, but it 
was not loaded, so she took a pitchfork and threat- 
ened the bear. Old Mr. Bear, rising on his hind 
feet, looked between his paws with a horrid grin, as 
if to stand the attack, but between the squealing of 
the pig and the persistent threats of the pitchfork, 
he ran away. The men and boys running in from 
the field followed and killed the bear." 

^'Wliat a hard trip my husband had! How shall 
we go ? " asked Mrs. Wormwood. ' ' Our people went 
by boat from Boston up the River St. John to within 
twelve miles of their destination," said Mr. Cook. 
''Because of this war and the enemy's vessels off 
the coast, w^e must go overland to Old Town, then by 
canoe up the Penobscot and across to the St. John. 
It is a long journe}^ but perfectly safe. All the 
Indians we meet will be the peaceful Penobscot 
Indians, the Tarratines." 

' ' Is there danger from the Indians in the new set- 
tlement!" 

''Both the English and American settlers have 
been very much afraid of Indian raids. But the 
British after the Revolution pursued the Indians to 
their retreats, and removed the fierce St. Francis 
Tribe to lands far beyond the St. Lawrence and the 
Mallecites to the Tobique. When you heard war 
was declared between England and America, the 
Tobique Indians put on their war-paint and started 
out to destroy the little settlement at Houlton. 
English soldiers from the Woodstock garrison 
met and disarmed them, putting them back on 
their reservation under strict orders not to cross 



LITTLE Christiana's journey 319 

tlie Aroostook Eiver, even on a hunting party." 

^^Have women and children been over this 
trail r' 

^ ^ No, but we will take you safe through the great 
woods. Now when can you be ready to start?" 

^^In a few days, Mr. Cook." 

So, on Sept. 1st, 1813, Christiana and little Sally 
and their mother set out upon their long journey in 
Mr. Cook 's wagon. They stayed a few days in Saco 
at their grandmother's, and Christiana's Uncle John 
Pattison went as far as Portland with them. 

They stopped one day at the Elm House. From 
tlie steps Christiana saw a stately pageant, as, to the 
peal of the minute guns, the bodies of the two cap- 
tains killed the day before in the naval battle off the 
harbor were borne to their last resting place on Mun- 
joy Hill. In its dignity and solemnity the military 
funeral was very impressive and Christiana never 
forgot the coffins covered, one with the American, 
the other with the British flag, and the strange uni- 
forms of the British soldiers as, with arms reversed 
and muffled drums, they followed the funeral car. 
In the afternoon Mr. Cook went on board the Enter- 
prise and Boxer down in the harbor. 

Leaving Portland September 7, they drove to 
AVinthrop where they rested one day, then out to the 
Kennebec Eiver. After passing through Albion, the 
turnpilvc came to an end. The rest of the way to 
Old Town was a rough road, grubbed out in the 
forest. 

At Old Town, their journey by land ended. Joe 
Goodenough, who had come thus far with Mr. Cook 
on his outward trip, was waiting for them with 
canoes and two Indians. The travelers stayed a 



320 MAINE, MY STATE 

day and a half at the tavern kept by Jackson Davis, 
a Qnaker. Christiana was nmch amused to hear 
Mrs. Davis say to a boy wlio had been sent after the 
cows and came back without them, ''Thee go again, 
and pkick thine eyes open." 

At last they embarked on the brown waters of 
the Penobscot, and slipped by Indian Island and the 
cleared farms into the great forest through which 
they must follow the winding water-courses for 
many days. Christiana enjoyed the change from 
wagon to canoe, and the old mossy woods with their 
wavering spots of sun and shadow. The last house 
was at Sunkhaze stream, where they thought of 
spending the night, but the family seemed so poor 
with so many neglected children that Mrs. Worm- 
wood told Mr. Cook she would rather camp on the 
shore. A tent of quilts and rugs was made for her. 
The men had a bed of boughs before a crackling fire. 
They spent eleven nights this way. Camping out 
nights was a novelty to Christiana and Sally, and an 
Indian was a sight they had never seen before. 
Young Peopold, a handsome young fellow, joked 
and sang and danced for them. Old Mattanis was 
a strong, brawny brave who helped paddle the 
heavily laden barks. 

They spent a night at Gordon's Falls. The 
fourth day they followed the meanderings of the 
Mattawamkeag, delighted with the beauty of the 
scenery, the enormous, towering pines, the banks and 
tablelands covered with shrubbery and giving the 
appearance of a cultivated garden, the golden 
autumn leaves carpeting the surface and fringing the 
shores, the pointed firs everywhere. They heard the 
woodpecker's death drum to nests of bugs and knots 



LITTLE CHKISTIANA's JOURNEY 321 

of worms and tlie squirrels chattering and winding 
up their clocks in their throats. At Baskehegan 
Falls they got the finest, fattest front they ever ate. 
When they left the Baskehegan near Danforth, 
everything had to be carried over to the Chiputneti- 
cook Lakes, where they stopped for the night. 

*^Not far from here,'^ said Mr. Cook, *'a spotted 
line marks a trail of about forty miles through the 
woods to Houlton. ' ' Mr. Cook carried little Sally in 
his arms over all the portages. Christiana walked 
with her mother. The children wearied of the jour- 
ney and Christiana said, *^ Mother, I did not know 
there were so many trees in the whole world ! ' ' Here 
old Mattanis went astray and it was quite dark 
before he rejoined the company. Asked what he 
would have done had he not found the camp he said, 
**0, spoze me starve three days, then eatum sable," 
as if by that time nothing would come amiss. 

In the morning they launched on Grand Lakes 
which looked oceanic to the children. A squall arose 
and beat against the frail barks, but it soon passed. 
Next day they went through the Thoroughfare and 
across to the east side of North Lake. On the 
Thoroughfare they overtook a party of six men who 
had started sooner than they to cross North Lake. 
When Christiana and Sally got across the lake there 
was the men's campfire and some fish ready cooked, 
with a note attached stating that they were left * * for 
Mother and the little ones.'' From North Lake a 
carry was made to the nearest Eel River Lake, 
whence they proceeded down Eel Eiver to the St. 
John. 

It was cold and frosty in the morning. Most of 
the bright leaves had fallen. There were rains and 



322 MAINE, MY STATE 

one dull, cheerless morning after a cold niglit, little 
Christiana's courage failed at one of the carrying 
pL'U'Oo. She was so tired she sat down and refused 
LO go on. 

^'Mother," she said, ^'I know we shall die here 
anyway, for we can never get out of these dreadful 
woods!" 

^^ Don't be discouraged," said kind Mr. Cook, *^in 
two or three days more we shall be home." 

Going six miles up the St. John they met Mr. 
Wormwood with horses. The men whom they had 
seen at the Thoroughfare had arrived two days 
ahead of them and informed Mr. Wormwood of his 
family's approach. Christiana was delighted to see 
her father, but little Sally clung to good Mr. Cook 
whose strong arms had carried her so many miles. 
They spent the night at Mr. Wolverton's farm. 
Next morning, October 10, they went with the 
horses, through the woods by the spotted line to 
Houlton. 

The first farm was Mr. Cook's, and out of the big 
log house came Polly and Willy and little Fanny 
Cook to meet their father. The Wormwood family 
stayed one night with the Cooks, then went two 
miles farther across the Meduxnekeag Stream to 
Aaron Putnam's new frame house, where Mr. 
Wormwood had secured rooms for his family. 
Christiana was nine years old and Sally three, at this 
time. Christiana lived 81 years in Houlton and saw 
the forest give way to fertile fields and pleasant 
villages. She never forgot her journey through the 
Great North Woods and often told her children's 
children about it as I have told it to you. 

: — Anna Barnes^ 



A QUAINT LETTER OF LONG AGO 323 

A QUAINT LETTER OF LONG AGO 

READ A LETTER from the average boy of 19 
today. Then compare it with this one, writ- 
ten to his thirteen-year-old sister Marcia by 
Robert Pinckney Dnnlap, afterwards Governor of 
Maine. There must have been a decided change in 
the last century or more, either in the art of let- 
ter writing, or human nature — and it is exceedingly 
doubtful if it is the latter. 

Brunswick, May 19th, 1813. 
Dear Sister: 

We learn with much satisfaction by your 
letter that you are so well contented, and as you 
appear to be sensible of the advantages you 
enjoy, I trust your improvement (in the various 
branches to which your attention shall be 
called) will co-equal these advantages. In the 
path of science you may meet with obstacles, 
which (for the moment) appear impossible to 
surmount; but when you find you have become 
in one instance victorious, every impediment as 
it were vanishes; and nothing but perseverance 
and industry are requisite to cause you to glide 
pleasantly in the gentle stream of learning. 

As curiosity is natural to the mind and, as 
you observe, you contemplate speedily com- 
mencing Geography, I trust that this principle 
will have its full extent, and that your knowl- 
edge of this branch, though it may be limited, 
may be laid on a foundation upon which you 
may build at your leisure. I must confess tjaat 



324 MAINE, MY STATE 

this study has offered me much pleasure and 
delight, whilst I hope that the gratification 
you will experience from pursuing it will be 
congenial with mine. 

I trust you will pay the strictest attention to 
your music, for no accomplishment graces a 
young lady more than this, and though it is not 
to be expected that you can perfect yourself 
during your residence in Portland, yet by 
obtaining its fundamental principles correctly 
from those ladies under whose care you are 
placed, in process of time your advancment 
will be such that in attending to it you can blend 
amusement with instruction. My remarks 
on this are not made from experience but from 
observation. 

Far be it from me even to convey the idea 
that you should neglect your other studies and 
pay your undivided attention to Geography 
and Music. Every branch demands a share of 
your time, and by giving to each a proper por- 
tion none becomes dry and insipid; but the sat- 
isfaction you experience from pursuing them as 
it were cojointly tends to cheer and exhilarate 
your efforts. Jane has sent by Rev. Kellog 
what you mentioned in your letter. Nothing has 
transpired of importance since you left us. 

Excuse all errors of grammar and punctua- 
tion as I write in haste. Respects of all friends. 

AVhilst I remain with sentiments of esteem 
your affectionate brother, 

Bobt. Dunlap. 



A QtTAlNT LETTEH OF LONG AGO 



825 



Robert Pinckney Duiilap, tenth Governor of 
Maine, serving fonr years from 1884 to 1838, came 
of pioneer stock. Governor Dunlap was born in 
Brnnswick, and he lived and died there. His grand- 
father, Rev. Robert Dnnlap, was tlie first '^ settled 
minister" of Brunswick, as the phrase went in 
those days. 




Home of Governor Robert Dunlap in Brunswick. 



Rev. Robert Dunlap was a ''zealous divine" of 
the Presbyterian faith. He was born in the north of 
Ireland. He had a strong taste for scientific studies. 
At the age of nineteen years he entered the Univer- 
sity of Edinburgh. He studied theology and was 
licensed to preach. In 1736, with his family, he 
started for America. Ninety miles southeast of 



326 MAINE, MY STATE 

Cape Breton, a gale drove the ship on the Isle of 
Sable and wrecked it. Of the two hundred persons 
on board, ninety-six were drowned. One of Mrs. 
Dunlap's little children was washed from her arms. 
Though the ship was an entire loss, one of the long- 
boats was saved, and the survivors repaired it as 
best they could with no better materials than some 
flax and candles which had been blown ashore from 
the cargo of the sunken ship. In this fragile craft 
they put off, and succeeded in reaching the Isle of 
Canso, 27 leagues distant. By the Governor's orders 
they were taken from there in a small fishing boat 
and landed at Cape Ann. 

Robert Dunlap went from there to Boston, where 
he made the acquaintance of some noted preachers 
of his time, and later was ordained to the ministry. 

In 1747 he took charge of the parish in Bruns- 
wick. This was during the period of the Indian 
wars. Continually on guard against savages, no 
isolated community dwelt in safety. On their 
arrival at Brunswick, the Dunlaps lived for a time 
in the garrison house. Rev. Robert Dunlap 
preached at the church at New Meadows, and an 
armed escort, consisting of a group of his neighbors, 
accompanied him there every time he held a service. 

In colonial times, too much gaiety, either of 
dress or demeanor, was severely frowned upon, espe- 
cially in a minister's family. One law of the 
church, from which practically every law emanated, 
allowed a minister to wear finer clothing than his 
wife. 

One day Mrs. Dunlap received a gift of a cloak 
from her old home. Back in Ireland, the mother, no 
doubt thinking fondly all the time of the pleasure it 



A QUAINT LETTER OF LONG AGO 327 

would give, had with her own hands spun wool from 
her flock of sheep, woven the cloth and dyed it bright 
scarlet, soft and rich. Mrs. Dunlap 's love of dainty 
apparel had survived all the hardships of her life in 
America. She donned the pretty cloak which was 
marvelously becoming and wore it to church, where 
it was the admiration of several members of the 
congregation. Some, however, eyed it askance. 
Gay clothes and bright colors were not in accord- 
ance with the Puritan ideas of a decorous life; So 
it was not long before several deacons of the church 
took occasion to call on Mrs. Dunlap and inform her 
that they did not consider it seemly for a minister's 
wife to wear a scarlet cloak. 

A difference of opinion with his flock led to the 
resignation of the Rev. Robert Dunlap. In those 
times every voter was taxed to support the church. 
To this he objected strongly. Said he, '*No man's 
money or rates shall ever come into my pocket or 
private use in any shape as ministerial taxes in this 
town, who does not adhere to my ministry." 

Rev. Robert Dunlap 's Bible is still in existence, 
and is owned by his descendants. It was used at 
the one hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the 
church in which he preached. 

— Theda Cary Dingley. 



328 MAINE, MY STATE 

NEAL DOW 
The Father of Prohibition 

NO OTHER life-long citizen of Maine is more 
widely known than Neal Dow. His name is 
honored the world over wherever thought is 
given to human progress and hopes are cherished 
for the uplift of man. It is the name of one who 
made deep and lasting impression upon the legisla- 
tion .of this and other lands. The Maine Law of 
which he was the author became famous wherever 
the English language was spoken, and it was printed 
and discussed in other tongues. To a great extent 
it directed the thought of statesmen throughout 
Christendom to a matter of great social import. 
Certain it is that, through the well-deserved fame of 
Neal Dow, the name of his native State became 
familiar and honored where otherwise it had been 
unknown. 

Neal Dow was born in Portland, March 20, 1804, 
and died there October 2, 1897. He retained physi- 
cal strength far into the last year of his life, and 
mental power almost to his last hour. After he had 
passed his 90th birthday, he acceptably addressed 
large audiences with much of the vigor which char- 
acterized the efforts of his prime. He attributed his 
longevity to his regular habits, to his abstinence 
from liquor and tobacco, to moderation at the table, 
and last, but not least, to his well-considered, con- 
stant activity, mental and physical, which protected 
him from the degenerating ennui and enervation 
with which idleness saps the health of its votaries. 

In his youth and young manhood Neal Dow was 
an all-round athlete in what he called useful lines of 




General Neal Dow 



330 MAINE, MY STATE 

recreation. In liorsemanship, in swimming, in row- 
ing and sailing boats, in fencing, in shooting, in box- 
ing, he was as skilled as the average amatenr of his 
time. As a swimmer, he was able to save two men 
from drowning, plnnging in one case from a wharf, 
and in the other from a boat. His skill in the 
^' manly art of self-defense" enabled him to exj^ose 
to ridicule tools of the liquor traffic, hired to assault 
him. His courage was never questioned. It was 
commonly said of him that he knew no fear. 

Some incidents may throw light upon this phase 
of his character. When a boy too young, to know 
better, he accepted a challenge, declined by the 
other boys present, of. the owner of a large monkey, 
to enter, armed with a stick, a yard where the 
vicious simian was wont to reign supreme. He came 
out of the fight with torn and draggled clothing, face 
and hands and legs scratched and bitten, but leaving 
behind him a cowed and submissive monkey, whose 
owner was as glad to call the fight off as he had been 
ready to start it. 

As a young man he was chief engineer of the Vol- 
unteer Fire Department of Portland, which included 
hundreds of the leading young men of the city. A 
fireman on trial for insubordination pleaded, as an 
excuse for his disobedience, that ' ^ the Chief ordered 
him to undertake an altogether too dangerous task, ' ' 
but admitted that, upon his refusal to obey, the Chief 
himself performed it. 

A crowd of turbulent men had assembled about 
the Court House in Portland, intent upon mobbing a 
witness from the country, who had testified against 
a rum-seller on trial. Neal Dow took the witness 
under his personal protection and escorted him 



NEAL DOW 331 

iniliarmed througli the jeering rioters, who held his 
cahn, cool courage in too much respect to dare to 
attack the man he had taken under his care. 

The burly mate of a coaster, temporarily in Port- 
land Harbor, hired by some liquor sellers to horse- 
whip Neal Dow in the public streets, afterwards com- 
plained at his trial in Court that the pain inflicted 
upon him by his intended victim was punishment 
enough for what he had tried, but failed to do. 

As Mayor of Portland, Neal Dow, passing 
through a street one evening, was attracted by a 
crowd to a spot where a drink-crazed man, armed 
with pistol and bludgeon, was holding four police- 
men at bay. Instantly the Mayor sprang upon the 
ruffian and delivered him harmless into the hands of 
the police. 

A highly respected citizen of Portland, now 
nearly eighty years of age, said to the writer, ''When 
a lad of seventeen, I saw Mayor Dow alight from a 
carriage in front of the old city hall. Just as his foot 
touched the curbing a tough looking rowdy, who was 
avowedly waiting there for the purpose, aimed a 
blow at him. Mr. Dow parried it, and with a counter 
on the chin knocked his assailant to the sidewalk, 
where he lay helpless, while Mr. Dow walked quietly 
about his business as though nothing had happened. 
1 then and there conceived an admiration for Neal 
Dow which I have cherished ever since. ' ' 

Such incidents might be multiplied. Trifling in 
themselves, they would be unworthy of note, save as 
indicative of a characteristic which secured for Neal 
Dow a large following among young men, who, 
attracted by his strenuous personality, lent support. 



332 MAINE, MY STATE 

because lie had espoused it, to a cause for wliicli 
otherwise they cared but little. 

Other characteristics, qualifications and acquire- 
ments attracted other friends and supporters, and 
commanded respect and admiration from many who 
were not ahvays ready to accept his views or 
approve his methods. 

He was a constant and discriminating reader and 
delighted in the retirement of his choice and exten- 
sive library. He was a student of the Bible, draw- 
ing from that Book of books the inspiration and 
mental and moral strength which served him well in 
his chosen life work. 

He was a clear, forcible writer and an eloquent, 
vigorous speaker. He w^as welcomed by large audi- 
ences in all of the Northern States, in Canada, Nova 
Scotia, Prince Edward 's Isle, England, Scotland and 
Ireland. 

Although he had passed, by some years, the mili- 
tary age, he tendered his services in the Civil War to 
Governor Washburn, and was appointed Colonel of 
the Thirteenth Maine Regiment. He was soon after 
made Brigadier-General. He was twice wounded at 
the battle of Port Hudson. 

On the day of General Dow's death a letter was 
received at his residence, from Col. T. G. Reid, late of 
the Twelfth Arkansas Infantry. Col. Reid wrote: 
^ ' On the morning of the assault on Port Hudson, you. 
with one or two mounted officers in the midst of your 
brigade, columns of regimental front, in the broad, 
open field of Slaughter's Plantation, were directing 
the deploying of your regiments into line of battle, 
about four to six hundred yards from my position. I 



I 



NEAL DOW 333 

observed closely your movements until I was enabled 
to know that you were the commanding officer. 

''I assembled a small number of my sharp- 
shooters and singled you out to them and ordered 
them to fire continuously at you. After a short time 
your line of battle was formed, and a general 
advance on my position was commenced, with drums 
beating and flags flying, presenting a magnificent 
line, grandly marching to time in perfect order. It 
was a picture never to be erased from my mind, for 
with all the military pomp and display in formida- 
ble battle array I knew the dreadful fate I held in 
hand to turn it into defeat with the terrible slaughter 
of that day's battle. 

^'Tlie scattering fire of my sharp-shooters con- 
tinued, while the roar of your cannon sent shells over 
our heads. When about three hundred yards from 
my position I saw you fall, or lean down to your 
horse's neck, and a number of your hospital corps 
ran and lifted you from your horse. ' ' (His bridle arm 
was then disabled, and he proceeded on foot until a 
shot in the leg made him helpless.) 

^'Your command never faltered, but swept on in 
splendid line until w^ithin eighty yards of my posi- 
tion, when I ordered my battalion to fire. You 
directed the charge of your brigade, and it swept 
along like an avalanche until forced to retreat from 
the galling fire of my command, so well protected by 
our strong breast- works. But the retreat of your 
brigade was orderly." 

Col. Reid's sharp-shooters did their w^ork well. 
Besides the two bullets that struck him, the blouse 
that he wore had holes in it which showed that four 
other bullets came very near their mark. 




o 

Q 

c 
a» 
O 

o 



o 



NEAL DOW 335 

Before General Dow had recovered from liis 
Avonnds lie was taken prisoner, and was held as snch 
for nine months. On the 23d day of March, 1864, 
after an absence of more than two years, he returned 
to Portland, where he was accorded a great recep- 
tion, the public bnildings and many dwellings and 
stores being decorated. 

Of a meeting held in his honor the next evening, 
a Portland morning paper said: ^^In the annals of 
Portland there has never been snch a gathering of 
people on any occasion, as there was last evening at 
the City Hall to welcome General Dow. The doors 
of the hall were thrown open at six o'clock, and, 
althongh proceedings were not to commence before 
half-past seven, in half an hour the spacious hall, 
ante-rooms and passage-w^ays were solidly packed 
with human beings, and, for an hour or more, crowds 
were wending their way to the hall, only to find when 
they arrived that it was impossible for them to 
obtain, an entrance. So great was the crowd that it 
was with difficulty the police forced a passage-way 
for the entrance of the city authorities with General 
Dow.'' 

— Fred. N. Dow. 



336 MAINE, MY STATE 

Maine 

Maine, like Old Rome, stands on the hills 

Her windows opened to the sky. 
Her eyes the deep Atlantic sweep — 

Where stately ships go sailing by. 
By her swift rivers cities rise 

Where men pass to and f ro ; 
Her face alight with happy dreams, 

Her heart all warm with hopes that glow ! 

How sweet the songs the pine trees sing — 

How fair her fields when June-grass waves! 
Like pilgrims, weary men of earth 

Turn to the shores the ocean laves ; 
Though winter holds her to its breast 

As tempest wild sweeps in the night — 
Love folds her soul — and holds her soul — 

Within the glory of its light. 

Her sons have loved her — fought for her — 

And peered beyond their present ken. 
The vastness of the shade she casts 

Falls far across a world of men. 
She is the moulder and the guide 

Of virile souls who know not fear : 
She is a Leader ! and inspires 

Her sons to deeds all men revere. 

All hail to Maine and to her Sons ! 

Honor is theirs on land and sea. 
The blood of Statesmen thrills her life. 

Of Dreamer — Poets that shall be. 
State crowned by Canada's broad land, 

Far greater days for her shall dawn : 
Upon her steadfast, frost-hewn hills — 

The thoughts that sway the world are born. 

— Elizaheth Poivers Merrill, 



ELIJAH KELLOGG 337 

ELIJAH KELLOGG 
Foreword 

"The summer folks," said a Harpswell fisherman, "say 
they never heard such preaching as Uncle Kellogg served 
up at the Congregational Church." 

He referred to the late Rev. Elijah Kellogg, best known 
perhaps, especially to boys who like tales of adventure, as 
the author of the Elm Island stories. 

''There's one thing about the stories that Uncle Kellogg 
writes," his critic went on, "he always got everything right 
when he wrote about the sea. He was a sailor himself and 
when he told about managing a dory in a squall, or working 
a ship in a storm, you could use what he wrote for a sailor's 
guide. I have read Clark Russell and Marryatt and Dana's 
'Before the Mast,' but I must say Uncle Kellogg got it nearer 
from a sailor's point of view than any of them." 

Rev. Elijah Kellogg was born in Portland May 20, 181 3, 
and died March 17, 1901. It is well known that he refused 
many offers of large city parishes, where the people would 
have paid him a good salary, but he preferred to spend his 
life in his secluded home on Harpswell Neck. Not long 
before the great preacher's death, Holman Day, the well- 
known Maine author, visited Rev. Elijah Kellogg and wrote 
the following impressions of the preacher and writer and 
of his home. 



IN the tall, old-fashioned house behind the spruces 
on Harpswell Neck, lives Rev. Elijah Kel- 
logg. Notwithstanding the picturesque beauty 
of the place it would be lonely for any one except a 
lover of retirement. Especially lonesome was the 
homestead one sunny afternoon in September. The 



338 MAINE, MY STATE 

house was locked, the blinds were drawn, and were 
it not for a little path that wormed through the grass 
to the door, a careless visitor might think the place 
no longer tenanted. 

The pastor and his housekeeper were away, but 
evidently not for long. The carriage house stood" 
wide open and within was the venerable clergyman's 
old-fashioned carriage, with the big, round glass in 
back and sides, the muddy every-day cart and the 
single-seated wagon with an umbrella tucked under 
the seat. A horse munched in his stall in the stable. 
Over behind the barn a cow stood in the shade. 

Whether the minister would appear from land, 
or from sea, was uncertain, but plainly he was not 
far distant. So I listened to the silence buzzing in 
my ears and watched Mr. Kellogg 's grey cat scratch- 
ing her claws on his favorite pear tree. 

The aged minister came by water and his coming 
was picturesque. Gen. Joshua L. Chamberlain, the 
Hero of Little Round Top, whose summer cottage is 
across the bay and with whom Mr. Kellogg 's friend- 
ship dates from the time when Bowdoin's ex-presi- 
dent was a boy in college, had invited the preacher 
across for dinner. So Mr. Kellogg went with a bas- 
ket of his best apples. After the meal the general 
came rowing the aged clergyman back to his own 
shore. It was a striking spectacle, the soldier- 
scholar bending to the oars, his old friend seated in 
the stern sheets and guiding the craft. The general 
accompanied the clergyman up the bank and not 
until they were well up toward the spruces did he 
relinquish the basket and bid *' Uncle'' Kellogg 
good-bye with a hearty hand-clasp. 






"*^ 




Elijah Kellogg returned home accompanied by his old friend 
General Joshua L. Chamberlain 



340 MAINE, MY STATE 



a 



When I first began to write my books for boys, ' ' 
said the venerable author to me, ^'I used to think 
that perhaps I ought to be writing sermons instead. 
But then I reflected that I was reaching a larger 
audience than I ever could through sermons and so 
I reconciled my labors to my scruples. My books 
luimber about thirty and I spent much hard labor in 
their composition. ' ' 

^' Where is Elm Island, Mr. Kellogg!" 

^'Oh, I made that island out of my imagination 
for the story. You know it's pretty hard finding an 
island on the Maine coast bearing northwest from 
the mainland. Still, notwithstanding that fact, I 
know that at least half a dozen islands are pointed 
out as the suppositious place where Lion Ben and the 
boys lived and labored. 

'^I enjoyed writing those books. I like anything 
that relates to the affairs and the prosperity of 
young men. I have always been anxious to help 
young men in any way I could. They're an inspira- 
tion. So when I commenced to write books for boys 
I struck out on new lines. All the books for young 
folks seemed to tell them how to, play. 

' ' I commenced to tell them how to work. I was, 
of course, much gratified because the stories were 
read so generally. When I hear that any boy has 
perused those books with pleasure I feel that the 
boy has something good in him, some trait worth 
cultivating, for it indicates that he has a desire to 
learn and is interested in wholesome, hard work. 

^ ' When boys or men come and tell me that those 
books have helped them, I feel a pleasure that I can- 
not describe. One of the very happiest days of my 
whole life was when a successful man held my hand 



ELIJAH KELLOGG 341 

and said, *Mr. Kellogg, I date my prosperity and 
success from the time I read the Elm Island series. ' ' ' 
And the naive and honest brown face glowed. 

Speaking of * ^ Spartacus to the Gladiators, ' ' that 
stirring old declamation known to every school boy, 
Kellogg said that he wrote it while a boy at Ando- 
ver, as a rhetorical exercise, and delivered it him- 
self. The professor under whose charge the exer- 
cises were conducted said, as the youthful speaker 
stepped down, 

*'Boys, that is eloquence!'' 

'^I also wrote most of the other declamations at 
that time, ' ' remarked he. A close rival of Spartacus 
is ' ' Regulus to tlie Carthaginians, ' ' another example 
of stately eloquence that so charms the hearts of the 
school-boys. 

*^For a time," said the venerable man with a 
quizzical smile, ^'Spartacus was ruled out at Bow- 
doin declamations, as IVe heard. The professors 
used to say that no matter what the merits of the 
speakers might be, the prize used regularly to go to 
the boy who thundered Spartacus." 

Elijah Kellogg 's life has not one trace of repin- 
ing or reproach in it. He has accepted what has 
come to him and has been content. He has borne the 
adversity that has overtaken him through the fail- 
ure of his publishers, and from his meagre resources 
has always extended a helping hand. 

**rf Elijah Kellogg had a hundred thousand dol- 
lars," said a neighbor, ''he would still be poor, for 
he always has his hand out to help some one who is 
worse off than he. Why, the people love that man 
like a father and the newer generation coming up 
seem to love him still more than those before them. ' ' 



342 MAINE, MY STATE 

* ^ I have had a happy life here, ' ' said Mr. Kellogg. 
^' There has been peace and enough for me and those 
who were dependent on me. My parish has been 
world enough in which to work. 

'^I have watched the generations grow to man- 
hood and felt that in a way I was helping the I^ord 
to shape their ways. The younger people as they 
grow seem to like me, too,'' and the pastor smiled 
wistfully. 

'^Do you know, I have had helping me in my 
farm work this week, great-grandchildren of my first 
parishioners ! " 

The Kellogg house was built forty years ago by 
Mr. Kellogg, assisted by his neighbors and parish- 
ioners. Then, as now, they would do anything to 
assist him. 

^ ^ You come over and hew for me, ' ' he used to say, 
^^and I'll be over and preach for you." 

In all the years he has dwelt in Harp swell, he has 
never asked neighborly assistance, when by any 
manner of means he could perform a task with his 
own hands. He has lived and labored honestly on 
the six days, as he lives and labors now — brown, 
hardy and earnest, charitable, loving and a kindly 
counselor always. He has spoken the words that 
have united, has blessed the children, has watched 
the long lives and laid the fathers and mothers away. 
Still he lives on cheerily and hopefully. 

And twice each Sabbath day from the pulpit of 
the white church on the hill, he has preached such 
sermons as can come only from the heart of a simple, 
earnest, toiling man of God — and that man Elijah 
Kellogg. 



ELIJAH KELLOGG 343 

The fervor, fire and soul of Mr. Kellogg 's earlier 
pr(j Juctions were never more nearly matched by him 
chan at the time of the Bowdoin centennial in 1894. 
He spoke at the great dinner on that occasion. The 
major-general of the armies of the United States, the 
chief justice of the United States, the chief justice of 
Maine and many other distinguished persons had 
preceded the slight, bronzed, stooped old gentleman 
who had stood in the press with his hand at his ear 
and listened as best he might. The heat was intense. 
The great marquee but indifferently protected the 
throng from the sun's rays. Therefore as the after- 
noon wore on the audience oozed out from beneath 
the tent and sought the cool green of the lawn and 
the shade of the trees. 

At last the word went about on the campus 
* ' Elijah Kellogg is speaking, ' ' and then the throngs 
flocked back again, pressing, crowding, standing on 
tip-toe, craning their necks to hear this plainly- 
attired, kindly-faced old preacher. People who had 
but illy attended the speeches of men great in the 
world, noAv were breathlessly eager to hear. Any- 
one who moved restlessly or whispered was 
reproved by withering looks. I shall always remem- 
ber that address — not its words — but its marvelous 
effect on the throng. The venerable preacher drifted 
into the story of how it came about that he settled in 
Harp swell. 

In simple language he described his early pastor- 
ate there when he supplied from college. The people 
asked him to become their pastor. He promised 
that he w^ould, if certain conditions on their part 
were carried out. The parish did as he asked and a 



344 MAINE, MY STATE 

delegation came to him to amiounce their compli- 
ance. 

Then with gratitude and with a trne interest in 
his people he took up his work in Harpswell, many, 
many years ago, and there he has dwelt ever since, 
continuing at the age of eighty-five the pastoral min- 
istrations he commenced in his early youth. 

All this he told with unaffected earnestness at 
Brunswick that day, and no career among them all 
seemed more to be admired. A blameless, simple 
life spent in doing good and in honest work in con- 
tented retirement — that is Elijah Kellogg 's career — 
and his name will be long in the mouths of people 
when more dazzling honors and personages have 
forever gone. 

His closing words at Brunswick thrilled the 
hearts of all who listened. A new light came in his 
eyes. His bent form straightened. He was in- 
spired. The matchless eloquence of the last few 
sentences rang over the heads of the great throng 
and echoed in their ears. 

Then the speaker ceased and almost abruptly 
pushed his way out through the press. Pausing 
only an instant to shake a hand outstretched, he 
plodded across the campus in the sunshine, stooped 
yet brisk in his walk, his well-worn hat pulled down 
upon his head, his thin, brown face placid once more 
after the fervor of his address. 

Thus, a lonely figure on the broad campus, he 
passed out of sight beneath the trees, unhitched his 
sober brown horse and drove away toward his 
Harpswell home. 

— Holman Day. 



BOOKS ON EARLY MAINE HISTORY 345 

GOOD BOOKS ON EARLY MAINE HISTORY 

History of the District of Maine Sullivan 

History of Maine (2 vs.) Williamson 

Bancroft's History of the U. S. (vs. 1-2-3) 
Beginnings of Colonial Maine Dr. Burrage 

Makers of Maine Holmes 

Books (published by the State of Maine) : 

Maine at Valley Forge 

Waymouth's Tercentenary 

The Tercentenary of the Landing of the Popham Colony 

The Tercentenary of Martin Pring's First Voyage to 
the Coast of Maine 

The Tercentenary of De Monts' Settlement of St. Croix 
Island 
Maine : Her Place in History Chamberlain 

Sebastian Rale: A Maine Tragedy in the i8th Century 

Sprague 
Maine at Louisburg Burrage 

Bangor Historical Magazine (2 vols.) 
Sprague's Journal of Maine History (7 vols, completed) 
Maine Catholic Magazine (7 vols.) 
Maine Historical and Genealogical Magazine (9 vols. pub. 

in Portland) 
Francis Parkman's Works, especially : 

A Half Century of Conflict 

The Pioneers of France in the New World 

Montcalm and Wolfe 
Rosier's Narrative of Waymouth's Voyage 
Military Operations in Eastern Maine and Nova Scotia 

Kidder 
A Statistical View of the District of Maine 

Moses Greenleaf 
Collections of the Maine Historical Society (Series i, 2, 3, 

22 vols., Doc. Hist, of Maine, 24 vols.) 
The Pioneers of New France in New England Baxter 

Penhallow's History of New England Wars (Indian Wars) 
Drake's History of King Philip's War 
Indians of North America 
Indians of the Kennebec (Reprint from Hist, of Kennebec 

County) 



346 MAINE, MY STATE 

Twenty Years at Pemaquid J. Henry Cartland 

Sketches of the Ecclesiastical History of the State of Maine 
From the Earliest to 1829 

Town Histories 

Drisko's History of Machias 
Wheeler's History of Castine 
Folsom's History of Biddeford and Saco 
North's History of Augusta 
Whitman's History of Buckfield 



GLOSSARY 

There is no authority, so far as can be learned, for the 
pronunciation of Indian names. In general, there is little 
or no accent. The spelling of the Indian words varies 
greatly. 

Abnaki, Abenaki, or Abenaqui — "Men of the east" or 
"England." They constituted an Algonquian confederacy, 
centered in the State of Maine which subsequently over- 
flowed into the northern section of New Hampshire. 
They are said to have consisted, linguistically, of all the 
tribes occupying the East or Northeast shore of America. 
The term was first applied to the Indians of Nova Scotia. 
They occupied mainly the whole of the country between 
the Piscataqua and Penobscot Rivers. 

Agoncy — Early aboriginal name for Penobscot River. 

Algonkins or Algonquians or Algonquins were the most 
widely extended of all North American Indians, their ter- 
ritory stretching along the Atlantic coast from Labrador 
to Pamlico Sound and westward from Newfoundland to 
the Rocky Mountains. Their various tribes linguisti- 
cally affiliated, spoke innumerable dialects. The meaning 
of the word is "on the other side" (of the river), or "at 
the place of spearing eels, and other fish," — from the bow 
of canoe. 



GLOSSARY 347 

Armouchiquois. Vide Malecites. 

Aucociscos — A branch of the Abnaki. They occupied terri- 
tory between Saco and the Androscoggin River. The 
meaning is given as signifying "a crane" or "a heron." 

Canibas. Vide Kanibas. 

CusHNOCS^ — Of Augusta, Me.; one of the Kanibas clans. 

Etchemin or Etechemin — This tribe is now considered to 
have been a sub-group of the Abnaki confederacy, speak- 
ing the same language, but a different dialect, and to have 
included the Passamaquoddy and Malecite. They are 
said to have extended from the Penobscot to the St. Croix 
River as far as St. John. Later they resided in the neigh- 
borhood of Passamaquoddy River. The meaning of the 
term has been interpreted as *'Canoe-men." 

Kanibas — A branch of the Abnaki, who occupied both sides 
of the Kennebec River, Maine. 

Malecites — A branch of the Abnaki occupying the St. John 
River, New Brunswick. The term is said to mean 
"broken-talkers." They were called "Armouchiquois" by 
the French Missionaries and their language was most like 
the Passamaquoddy dialect. 

Mohawks — The most eastern of "The Five Nations," — 
Huron-Iroquois, — at one time, perhaps, the most power- 
ful Indian confederacy that ever existed. The Mohawk 
villages occupied mainly the valleys of the Mohawk River, 
N. Y., and their name signifies "eaters of live meat" (i. e., 
bear). 

Monseag — Means "Place of Island Waters." 

Narragansett — An Algonquin tribe, formerly one of the 
leading tribes in New England. 

NoRRiDGEWOCKS — A branch of the Abnaki, who dwelt along 
the Kennebec River. 

NoRUMBEGA — Means "A Succession of Falls and Still 
Waters." 



348 MAINE, MY STATE 

Passamaquoddies — This small tribe was a branch of the 
Abnaki. They were situated on the Schoodic River and 
on the waters and inlets of Passamaquoddy Bay. The 
term means "pollock-plenty place." 

Penobscots — A branch of the Abnaki, — dwelt on an island 
in the Penobscot River a few miles from Bangor. 

Pequawket — Tribe in Abnaki confederacy formerly living 
on head waters of Saco, about Lovewell's Pond. The 
principal village was the present site of Fryeburg. 

Pequots — An Algonquin tribe of Connecticut. 

Sachem — Supreme ruler of a territory inhabited by a cer- 
tain number of tribes. Each governed by an inferior 
ruler called sagamore. The dignity was hereditary and 
never elective. 

Sagamore — The Abnaki name for the chief or ruler of a 
tribe, the dignity of which was elective. 

Samoset — A native and sagamore of Pemaquid and the 
original proprietor of the site of Bristol. 

SoKOKis — A branch of the Abnaki, settled on or about the 
Saco River. 

Tarratines or Tarrateens — A term used by Pilgrims and 
early settlers to denote the Abnaki. After the exodus 
of the main body of the Abnaki to Canada, the term Tar- 
ratines was applied to the Indians occupying the Penob- 
scot River from source to sea and the contiguous terri- 
tories. 



Note. — The principal authority for the above data is the 
Dictionary of American Indian Place and Proper Names in 
New England, by R. A. Douglas-Lithgow, M.D., LL.D. 



PR0NUNCIATI0n]|[0F FRENCH WORDS 349 



PR(3NUNCIATI0N OF FRENCH WORDS 

THE KEY 

a — as in father. e — as in see. 

a — as in ate. o — as in bone, 

e — as in her. oo— as in cool, 

e — as in let. 6 — as in or. 

The nasal n in French has no exact equivalent in English. It is 
pronounced like nh with the mouth open, nearly like an in pant, or 
on in song, or an in crank. 

Aix-la-Chapelle — aches-la-shapelle. 
Andre Thevet — on (as in song) dra te-ve, 
Agoncy— a-gon (on as in song) see. 
Aubry — o-bree. 
Bateau — ba-to. 
Beaujolais — Bo-jo-la. 
Bien Court — Be-aa (as in pant)-coor 
Bon Soir — bon (on as in song) swar. 
Bigot — be-go. 
Brouage — broo-aje. 

Carignan Saliere — ca-reen-yon (on as in song) sa-le-air. 
Chaudiere — cho-de-air. 
De Monts— de-mon (on as in song). 
D'Iberville — de-bear-veal. 
Druillettes — drew-e-yet. 
Egalite — a-ga-le-ta. 
Estienne— a-te-en. 
Lescarbot — less-car-bo. 

Les Isle des Monts Desert — -lay-zeal-day-mon (on as in song) 
day-zair. 

Levis— le-vee. 

Louis — loo-e. 

Montpensier — mon (on as in song) pon (on as in song) see-a. 

Mai de mer — mal-de-mare; 

M. (stands for monsieur)— mo-se-er. 

Padeshall — pad-shall. 

Poutrincourt— poo-tran (an as in crank) coor, 

Patache — pa-tash, 



350 Maine, my state 

Pont-Grave — pon (on as in song) grave. 

Panounais — pa noo-na. 

Rale (or Rasle)— Ral. 

Roberval — Ro-bear-val. 

Raleau — Ra-lo. 

Sieur d'Orville— se-er-dor-veal. 

Sartignan — sar-te-yon (on as in song) . 

Sacre bleu — Sa-cre-ble. 

Villieu — ve-le-ye. 

Versailles — vair-si (i as in high) ye. 



